Working Class Hero
by Moderndaydrifter
Summary: Being a local celebrity is part of the job of a Texas high school football coach…even if you don’t want it to be….
1. Chapter One: Lucky Man

**_Author's Note: _**_Here is a new story I think I would like to try out. This first chapter starts how a little cheesy but it's a necessity for this story to get the plot formed. This chapter might move a little slow but believe me things will pick up! I had to get the basics in first. I hope you find it interesting._

**_Special Thanks: _**_To Maryilee for telling me to go ahead with this idea. I was a bit leery about it! Thanks!_

**_Disclaimer: _**_I do not own the characters associated with Friday Night Lights. This is for entertainment purposes only!!_

**_Spoilers: _**_There's really not any at the moment. It's in the middle of Coach Taylor's first season._

**_Summary: _**_Being a local celebrity is part of the job of a Texas high school football coach…even if you don't want it to be…._

**Working Class Hero Chapter One: Lucky Man**

_**Introduction:**_

Being the head football coach of the Dillon Panthers is an honor. When you take on a duty such as this you are in charge and responsible for one of the greatest traditions in the history of the small town in West Texas.You were a working class hero..you weren't extremely famous but you were viewed as important. Every Friday night in the fall the lights cascade over the field and the leader of the team draws all of the attention of the town to that rectangular area for the next couple of hours.

When such attention is focused on people they tend to develop fans and the townsfolk begin to get interested in things other than football about the person leading their famed team. It's almost as if the coaching staff takes on the duty of a local celebrity and a lot of their privacy is gone no matter how much they try to avoid it. It can have its good points as well as the bad, mostly depending on how the team is doing that week.

Being a head coach means celebrity status, celebrity status means zero privacy and zero privacy can cause a snowball effect of emotions and events that might get out of hand….

* * *

Saturday mornings after a win were always so relaxing. After a victory coach never felt the need to hold practice early in the morning, if at all during the day.

He was never one for sleeping in too late but at least they could take their time actually getting out of bed. They usually woke up around the same time and just snuggled up close to each other, enjoying the peace and quiet. It was their time to be together away from anything and everything. Away from work, away from social events and most importantly away from people in town who seemed to always corner them to ask sports questions and pry into personal issues. It was always as if they were in the wrong spot at the wrong time.

Eric rolled over; facing his wife who had just woke up as well. He gave her a small smile, remembering the night before and how he and Tami had some nice "personal" time together when Julie was over at a friend's house.

She read his facial expression, smiling back at him. "Good mornin' Coach Taylor."

Kissing her gently he replied, "Good mornin' darlin'." She was so beautiful despite the fact that she had been asleep moments before. He wasn't sure how she could pull that off when he looked dead in the first moments of being awake.

"So what's the plans for today?" Tami shifted her weight under the covers, getting closer to her husband's body. It was evident that Julie was still asleep, the TV was not on in the living room and her loud music wasn't blaring in her room down the hall. On Saturdays she usually wasn't up until after 11:00 anyway.

"I hope nothing. I wanna be lazy for a change."

"For a change?" Tami let out a laugh as she pushed herself out of bed. "I need a shower."

Erick quickly sat up, pushing off the comforter and giving her a boyish smirk as he did.

"I need to follow you."

"Just what we need, another rainy day." Eric stared out of the screen door and into the street. The side gutters gushed with rainwater, but that's something the state of Texas was used to in the past few months from the out of the ordinary weather patterns they had been experiencing.

"Oh well, wasn't your plan to be lazy today anyway?" Tami stood beside him, her eyes taking note to the gray clouds passing over their neighborhood.

"You're right." He closed the main door, walking back to the kitchen. "Where's my daughter at?"

"Sleeping."

"I guess she'll miss my famous pancakes."

Tami tried her best not to laugh but let it slip. "Hon, I hate to tell you this but if it's not barbecue it's a lost cause for you." She never could understand how someone made the most phenomenal steaks and briskets but could screw up boiling water. Then again, it was one of the many quirks her husband had that made her heart melt.

"At least I have one thing I can cook, some of us can't say that about ourselves, can we?" He arched his eyebrow, playfully giving her a small push away from him.

Their childlike banter went on for most of the morning but it was their style of flirting and being with each other. Julie had finally got up from hibernation around 11:00 and they all three spent the afternoon together.

It was times like these that made Eric appreciate the small things in life. His daughter's laugh, his wife's sense of humor and most of all the chance to have that special time to share with them. He felt corny thinking like that at times but it didn't matter, he was truly blessed.

This was finally a weekend he got to do what he wanted to. It was too rainy to work outside so he didn't have to make an excuse as to why he didn't and the Panthers had an off week coming up so a Saturday practice really wasn't vital. It was a shame the weekend was only two days long though because it flew by.

Sunday they went to church in the morning and thankfully ducked away from as many people as they could. He felt stuck up when he did that but frankly he didn't want to mess with it at the moment.

Sometimes he felt trapped, like there were so many eyes on him that he didn't know whether to be polite and satisfy their curiosity about him or run with his tail tucked between his legs. He had to admit it though; there were times that he did enjoy the attention and the people crowding around. Back before he was a head coach he never got the feeling of people caring about his opinions, and now he finally had the spotlight, he just wasn't sure if he or his family were ready for it. They would have to be though because it was real life and happening at that very moment.

* * *

On school mornings Coach always tried to get to his office by 7:30. There were times that one of his athletes stopped by before class started just to sit and talk and he enjoyed giving them advice in any matter that he could help with. It also gave him a little time to drink his coffee and read the Dillon newspaper before the other coaches got there to begin business.

He leaned back in his chair, completely relaxed from the past two days. Why couldn't life be as laid back as that everyday? He grinned at that thought. Life wouldn't be life if that were the case. He needed a little stress to keep his mind going.

He stared down at a couple of pictures he had to the left, one of he and Tami and then Julie's school photograph from the year before when she was a freshman. He couldn't think about what he did right to have two wonderful people in his life but he must've done something to make the man upstairs smile.

There wasn't much going on in Dillon according to the newspaper. He honestly could say that he didn't care much for the press in general, but he had to read his paper everyday just to get a general idea even though about 85 of the articles were lies and false accusations. The coffee was a little strong, the secretary in the main office was never consistent with how it tasted but it didn't matter, if that was his only problem of the day he was set.

His thoughts were quickly interrupted when he heard footsteps down the hall. He looked up, seeing a man in his early 30's approach his desk, his arm extended for Eric to return his handshake. Eric didn't recognize him; maybe he was new in town and wanted to check out the program. That was nothing out of the ordinary, he was used to random people dropping by.

"Are you Coach Taylor?"

The man seemed a little nervous but Eric nodded, shaking his hand as he stood up.

"That's me, what can I do for you?"

The man smiled. "I'm Mike Billings. I just recently moved to Dillon a couple of weeks ago from Lubbock. I thought I'd come down and meet the men that's leading the football team here."

"Well thank you, I appreciate that. Feel free to have a seat." He sat down himself, trying to read this man's body language.

"So you are from Lubbock you say? Home of the Texas Tech Red Raiders. They have a great pass offense up there."

Mike smirked as he looked at some of the pictures that Eric had on his walls.

"You got that right. Lubbock is a big football town, hence why I'm trying to get into it here too."

Eric folded his arms across his chest. All he could do was wonder why this man was so jittery and acting so nervous.

"Well what would you like to know about my team?"

"Right now I just wanted to come down and meet you. I've heard some good things about you." He stood up. "I see that they don't play this Friday."

"Yep, a much needed Friday off."

"It was nice meeting you, Coach. I can't wait to see you guys in action." With that comment he walked out, leaving Eric alone yet again.

He stared back at the empty chair. The man was nice to come in and show his support but it just seemed odd how he had been acting. Some people were that way though, they just didn't have the social skills that other people could carry with them.

He brushed it off and began focusing on the day before him. It was now 7:50 and McGill and the others would be arriving any minute.

* * *

Afternoon practice started at 3:30 with weights in the field house until around 4:15. Eric observed his boys through the window in his office as well as McGill and a few others on his staff.

"How's Riggin's grades looking?" Eric glanced over at Coach Davis who had been keeping an eye on a few of the players studies that were right on the borderline of failing.

"He's sitting at a GPA of about 74 right now. From what I understand he's being tutored by Landry Clark."

"Let's get them out on the field."

All of his players stood in a line in front of him as he gave his usual speech before their first round of conditioning began. He held a rolled up manila folder in his hand as he began to pace back and forth in front of them.

"Gentlemen, do you know what I have in my hand here?"

He paused for a moment, letting the question sink in as well as allowing their curiosity to peak.

"This is a folder with every one of your report cards in it. And every one of you knows where you stand about your eligibility to play on this football team."

He opened the folder, sifting through the stack of papers in his grasp.

"I'm not going to name any names for your privacy, but as I said, you know how you are doing. We will know if you let your grades slip, and if they fall under a 70, I don't care if it's a 69.9, you will not be on this team until you get them passing again. Understood?"

"Yes sir." The team uttered a weak response.

"What was that gentlemen?"

"YES SIR!"

"Okay, line up for your wind sprints!"

He watched on as they warmed up for their practice. He always took note to spectators in the stands that always dropped by to watch. Buddy Garrity was of course there as always, standing on the track along the sidelines rather than sitting where everyone else normally did. He wasn't sure about Buddy. He claimed he was there just to watch because he enjoyed it but Eric knew there was more to it. It was almost as if he was spying to inform the rest of the people in Dillon about how the team was looking but it was a free country and Coach couldn't do much about it.

He averted his eyes to the first row in the bleacher seats. It was Mike Billings. He tried to not make it obvious that he had noticed him but he gave a small wave and a nod, trying to cover up his suspicion.

'You are being paranoid.' He thought to himself. He turned back towards the field, blowing his whistle, informing the players to stop running.

"First string offense and defense, line up on the 20 yard line. Saracen, pick a play and let's do it!"

* * *

Even though it was a good day, Coach was happy to get home. He walked through the door at 6:15, practice had ran over a little longer than he wanted but sometimes that couldn't be helped. Tami was finishing up dinner and Julie was on the couch, reading her latest library book.

"Hey babe, what's for supper?"

She held a wooden spoon up, her hand underneath it to prevent any sauce from dripping on the floor.

"Spaghetti. Try this new sauce, it's delicious."

"It's very good." He paused, taking his hat off as he ran his hands through his disheveled hair. "So I met this new guy in town today."

"Yeah?"

"He stopped by my office this morning. Mike Billings. Does the name ring a bell to you?"

She turned back to the stove, stirring the noodles as she thought about the name.

"I can't say that I have, why? What gives?"

He shrugged. "He was just odd. I guess that's living in a small town though, you think everyone is weird until you get used to them."

He sat down at the table, hoping what he said was true. He was probably reading way much into the situation. Right now he was with his family and he'd have to put his work on the back burner until the next morning…Mike Billings was just a new Dillon Panther football fan…

* * *

_TBC….Let me know what you think!_


	2. Chapter Two: Suspicion

_**A/n: **__Here is chapter two of Working Class Hero! Enjoy!_

_**Special Thanks: Maryilee, riggins33, JoeDude, and Riggs. **__Your feedback on the first chapter is greatly appreciated!!_

_**Working Class Hero Chapter Two: Suspicion **_

The sound of rain on the window above the bed woke Eric up around 3:30 in the morning. He rolled over, glancing at the red digits beaming from the alarm clock on his nightstand. The entire night had been that way, him waking up about every hour, his mind racing with millions of thoughts. Everything was blurry, he couldn't place one thought with the other, kind of like a messy dream that you spent the next day trying to figure out and debunk.

He shifted his body towards Tami who was sound asleep, her body curled up under the three layers of covers that she insisted that they keep on the bed. It could be 100 degrees and she'd still want to be wrapped up from head to toe. The rain continued to pour down, making him relax a little bit. He ran his hands over his face, closing his eyes and attempting to get in a few more hours of sleep before the annoying sound of the radio came blaring loudly through the house.

It seemed only a matter of seconds but the next time he opened his green eyes it was time to get up. He hated sleep like that, the type that didn't feel restful. He was too lazy to even lift his arm up to hit the snooze button so Tami leaned over him, doing it but quickly threw her body back down beside him, falling right back to sleep.

"Babe, we gotta get up. It's already 6:45."

He slowly sat up, his hair sticking up in every direction. His wife was half-awake in the bed.

"Can I call in sick?" She muttered, burying her face in the pillow.

Eric smirked, pulling the comforter off of her, exposing her body in her silk nightgown. If it was one thing Tami hated it was when he did that to her.

"Nope lazy bones, get your ass up!"

* * *

He got to work a little late that morning. Rainy mornings always caused sleeping in late but he still arrived before 8:00. To his surprise, Mike Billings was waiting on the field house front steps. Coach fumbled with his keys, a little nervous about why he was back. Was he that interested in the program? Not even Buddy Garrity showed up this early in the morning to toss strategies around.

"Hello Mr. Billings, how are you this morning?"

Jiggling the lock, he watched Mike through his peripheral vision. Mike didn't answer, but waited for the door to be opened so they could get out of the rain. They both made there way to his office and sat down, reliving the scene from the day before with the first encounter they had together.

Eric folded his arms over his chest allowing Mike to break the silence since he had no idea what he was doing there at the moment. Mike stared back then leaned forward, letting out a heavy sigh.

"Your practice yesterday looked a little weak."

Eric smirked, not sure how to react to his observation. Clicking his tongue as he arranged a few papers on his desk he was at his nerves end with this guy and he really hadn't had to deal with him much.

"Well that's one opinion. Some practices are good; some are a little shaky. That's the world of football for you and that's why we call it practice, to polish out what looks rough."

Mike gave out a sarcastic laugh. He stared back at the coach, taking in more of his surroundings.

"The simple stuff should already be perfect. They couldn't even make simple passes."

Eric stood up at that comment, trying his best not to be unprofessional with this stranger.

"Mr. Billings, I don't have to explain myself to you. I know where the team stands at the moment and that's why I'm the head coach. I appreciate your concern but things are under control. We'll keep in touch."

"You are riding a high horse there, Coach Taylor."

Eric nodded, walking him to his door. He didn't say anything else, allowing that last phrase to linger over their heads. Why did he always attract the obsessed psycho type that lived and breathed the sport? He was a fanatic himself obviously but he wasn't to the point of going to another coach and ridiculing them for a sloppy practice.

He sat down again, staring at the large desk calendar he had out in front of him. He was so busy, there was only one night that week he was free and it was Wednesday. Of course, they didn't have a game Friday but there was always something going on with the boosters or some kind of event in Dillon so he was still tied up.

_"You are riding on a high horse."_

That comment made him think about the person he was becoming. Was he letting the job get to him? Being the head of something was surely an ego boost but he thought that he was handling it okay. Maybe in his own eyes he was but when you are on the outside looking in people view things a little differently.

Looking up he saw McGill standing in the doorway.

"Hey Mac, I didn't see you standing there."

"You okay their Coach, you look a little pale?"

Eric nodded. "Let's get this day going."

* * *

That night he still couldn't get Mike Billings off of his mind. He watched Tami from his recliner; she was in the kitchen cooking supper for them. He was actually home by 5:30, cutting practice a little short because he just couldn't focus on things. Staring back at the TV he watched the nightly news on the screen but didn't comprehend it. It seemed like everything was like a broken record. Someone was shot, a robbery took place, or a terrorist plot was unfolded somewhere up north. He grabbed the remote and quickly turned it off, closing his eyes as he did. He just wanted to relax and not worry about a thing but that was easier said than done.

"Why'd you turn it off hon, I was watching that." Tami spoke from the kitchen.

Eric didn't respond to her, his mind was too jumbled so he blocked out the things around him. Tami eyed him, staring at her husband who was motionless in his chair.

"Eric, you okay?"

She walked into the living room, sitting down on the arm beside him. He looked up and she could tell that his mind was racing and he was worried about something, just from the facial expression he had.

"Eric?" She whispered, putting her hand on his head to try to get his attention.

He looked up seeing his wife next to him and it caught him off guard.

"Hey, I thought you were cooking."

She gave him a smile. "Yeah well I'm at a stopping point and wanted to come talk to you. What's on your mind?"

He arched his eyebrow, staring at her out of the corner of his eye. Sometimes it annoyed him that she could read him like a book but then again at times it was the most amazing thing. He sat up, shifting his weight on the cushion below him.

"Do you think I'm arrogant?"

"What?" Tami looked confused, that question came out of left field.

"It's a simple question. Do you think I'm arrogant?"

She stood up, staring down at him.

"Of course I don't think you are arrogant, where is this coming from?"

"I've just been wondering how this town views me, personality-wise."

She smirked, giving him a playful grin. "You are never one to worry about what others think about you. What gives?"

He shrugged, pushing up out of the chair to a standing position next to her. "I'm just thinking out loud. When's dinner ready?"

"In a few, it would be done quicker if you'd stop asking."

* * *

Eric stared out of the window beside his desk the next morning, watching the rain pour heavy on the ground and parking lot adjacent to him. The weather fit his mood, cold and gloomy. He ran his fingers through the condensation that had formed on the glass, his mind switching from one topic to the next as if someone was changing the channel in his head.

Tami was right, he had never cared what anyone thought about him, much less gave it a second glance. He was here to have a successful program, not for a popularity contest like the rest of the town was. That's probably why people raised their eyebrow at his antics because he wasn't the usual mainstream coach that came through Dillon, he was all about the sport and doing what was best for the boys and that was that, no glitz and glamour to go along with it.

"Eric.."

Mcgill's voice startled him, causing him to flinch.

"Shit Mac." He ran his hands through his hair almost embarrassed that he jumped the way he had.

"A little edgy this morning are we?" Mac pushed a few envelopes across his desk. "Got your stuff out of your box for you." He turned around, making his exit into the weight room, leaving coach alone.

Eric nodded. "Thanks." He sat down, sifting through the mail that was usually 98 junk mail in the first place. Most of it was companies wanting him to buy 'top of the line' sports equipment at discount prices. He tossed them aside but the bottom envelope was revealed, quickly catching his eye.

Coach Eric Taylor was written in plain lettering across the middle and there was no return address or stamp. He tore it open, unfolding a small sheet of paper that looked to come from a notepad. The writing on the inside was the same plain print that was addressed to him and his eyes quickly skimmed the little writing that was on it.

_I want your job. I want this team. I want you out of the head coaching spot._

He crumpled up the paper, closing his eyes as he did as if that would make the writing change to something more pleasant like a fan letter. Straightening out the sheet he opened his eyes to the same font that was there before, the same phrase that sent chills up and down his spine.

His gut reaction was Mike Billings but he had nothing to prove that it was him. It could be a kid in school playing a prank for all he knew. It was in fact in his box in the front office, how could Mike Billings have access to put it in there? It had to be some dumb kid with too much time on his hands.

He stood up and placed the paper in his pocket, walking out of his office to where the other coaches were gathered. He wasn't going to say anything about this for the time being. If it was a kid he would only be allowing the student more fun if he let this get a rise out of him so he was best off ignoring it.

* * *

When he arrived home Tami was already there as usual. He walked through the door, accidentally allowing it to hit the wall behind it with hard impact, causing a loud bang throughout the house. Tami peaked over the recliner seeing her husband in the entryway, a wince written across his face.

"Damn hon, I didn't know you had plans to knock out that wall."

He threw his duffel bag on the floor and hung his blue windbreaker on the coat rack, not responding to her comment. He ran his hand over the top of her head still remaining silent and walked down the hallway to their room.

He sat on the edge of the bed and kicked his shoes off beside his feet before lying back on the bed. He stared up at the textured ceiling above him, looking at all of the patterns that seemed to be popping out at him. He didn't even hear Tami come in the room but felt the bed shift from her weight as she sat down beside where he was laying.

"So I'm getting the silent treatment? That ego thing still on your mind tonight?"

He continued to stare up at the paint job from whoever owned the house before them. He chewed on the inside of his cheek, contemplating whether or not he wanted to tell Tami about the note he received that morning. He was scared he was overreacting about the whole thing but he told her everything so why should this be any different? She could maybe find out who did it if a student was involved.

Fidgeting in his pocket he handed her the crinkled paper, still not speaking a word so he could see her initial reaction. Her brow creased as she read the few sentences and quickly looked down at her husband.

"Where did you get this?"

"It was in my box this morning."

She looked at it again and handed it back to him.

"Any idea who it could be?"

He shrugged, tossing the paper on the nightstand. "No clue. A part of me thinks it might be a kid, but then I'm thinking it might be this new guy in town that has been coming to the practices and stopping by the field house. Mike Billings."

She thought about that name. "Oh that's right, you asked if I had heard the name before. That's really eerie Eric."

He leaned over on his side, propping his head up with his arm. "Right now I'm not going to overreact. You know how crazy Dillon is about its football. Probably just someone trying to test me."

"I hope that's all it is."

Eric didn't want to talk about it anymore so he tried to change the subject as quickly as he could.

"Where's Julie?"

"She stayed after school to help Landry tutor Tyra. She'll be home in about 30 minutes."

Eric grinned, pulling his wife close to him on the bed. "So you mean we have 30 minutes to ourselves?"

"That's right Coach, what do you have in mind?"

He pulled her down on top of him, his lips caressing hers. He ran his hands through her long hair, trying to remember the last time they had a few minutes to themselves without anyone else in the house.

He felt his wife get closer to him, her body heat engulfing him. Then it was as if someone on the outside had that remote that was changing the thoughts in his brain and it flashed to the note and to Mike Billings. He couldn't get it off of his mind and he stopped, pulling away from Tami.

"What's wrong Eric?"

He sat up, pissed off that he let his emotions get the best of him. "I'm sorry, I've just got too much on mind…"

_TBC…._


	3. Chapter 3: Headstrong To Take On Anyone

_**A/N: **__Man my muse has been on a roll, spitting out all of these chapters…I hope it continues to be this way…Class started yesterday so hopefully I can fight through that! LOL! I'll try my best, we all know that fan fiction is world's more important than homework! _

_**Special Thanks: JoeDUDE, riggins33, riggs, **__and __**Maryilee. **__Thanks for taking the time to respond to my story! I love feedback; it's what keeps me writing. And thanks Maryilee also for being my beta reader! You really know how to polish a chapter up! Thanks!_

_**Working Class Hero Chapter Three: Headstrong To Take On Anyone**_

Sleepless nights were nothing new to Eric, especially during football season. Lately though he was getting quite annoyed with the insomnia he was experiencing for the simple fact that there were new worries on his mind other than the next team they were up against. He worried about the note he received and the weird stranger that had moved to Dillon from Lubbock.

He fumbled with his pillows trying to fluff them up, sending out a hard punch into one to try and kill some frustration. Tami shifted a little so he quit that, hoping she wouldn't fully wake up. He knew one thing; he'd ask Mike Billings his reasoning for moving to Dillon. It was in fact strange, moving from a good-sized city to a smaller place. Dillon wasn't exactly a booming atmosphere for new jobs and employment.

The bedside phone rang and broke the dark silence, sending a jolt through his body. He fumbled for it, finally finding the telephone after about three rings. He squinted at the caller ID, dismayed that it said private number. He normally didn't answer those so he hit silent and set the phone down beside the alarm clock. Who would be calling them at 2:30 in the morning? In a matter of seconds it rang again, the same thing flashing across the display screen.

He decided to go ahead and answer it, maybe it was an emergency with someone.

"Hello?" His voice was raspy from lying there all night.

There was no response, just deep heavy breathing on the other line. He felt Tami sit up next to him in the bed, her hand brushing his leg to grab his attention.

"Who is this?" He too sat up, looking down at Tami with a puzzled expression across his face.

Instead of playing games with whoever it was he hung the phone up, slamming down on the hard wood.

"It's a little late for phone games don't you think?" Tami muttered, pulling the covers around her tightly. "Did they say anything?"

Eric lay down again, snuggling up beside his wife. "Nope. Private name, private number. Nothing but heavy breathing on the other line."

He took a deep breath. Things were starting to get weird. Mike Billings randomly showing up. A threatening note left in his box. And now prank calls in the early morning hours. Eric wasn't sure what to do. He didn't want to give whoever was doing this the benefit of the doubt but he also didn't want to deal with this all of the time.

He finally began to doze, his body drifting off into a light sleep when the phone rang again.

"Dammit!" He grabbed the phone, quickly answering it. "I'm having this phone call traced!"

There was still no response on the other end, just the same thing that had occurred during the other call.

"Eric, just hang up the phone and turn the ringer off. Everyone who needs to call us has our cell phone, obviously this asshole doesn't."

"Keep this up you coward. Keep these childish games going." He hit end on the phone and turned the ringer off. "I probably shouldn't have said that."

Tami shrugged. "Probably not."

* * *

"Keep that coffee coming, McGill." Eric waved for him to pour more of the black liquid into his mug. He didn't get a wink of sleep the night before. He had stayed up all night, pacing back and forth, probably stressing over stuff he shouldn't have.

McGill topped the Dillon Panther Coffee cup off, observing his superior. He looked run down. He observed the black stubble that was growing on his chin and upper lip. His eyes had black circles forming and his iris's were bloodshot. He wasn't sure if he should say anything but there was no avoiding it.

"You getting any sleep there, coach?"

Eric sipped the steaming drink, feeling it trickle down his esophagus to his stomach. He didn't look up from some of the paperwork he was reading over, and quite frankly wasn't surprised that Mac had noticed. He knew how bad he looked; it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure that out.

"Who needs sleep, it's overrated?" He was still uncomfortable informing his staff of what had been going on. It felt as if he was overreacting to something so insignificant.

McGill didn't press the matter. If Eric wanted to vent he'd do it on his own time.

Coach Lafferty entered the threshold of the office, waiting for a moment to speak.

"What's up, Coach?" Eric asked, his eyes still focusing on paperwork.

"You have a visitor waiting out on the track."

That brought his attention off of the mail he was skimming.

"Who is it?"

Lafferty shrugged. "Some guy, says you know him. Kinda tall."

It was Mike Billings. Eric stood up, grabbing his ball cap and windbreaker. A part of him didn't want to go out there alone to speak with him; he was afraid he might lose his temper and do something he'd regret but he shrugged it off. 'You are acting stupid,' he told himself. It might not even be Billings that was doing this.

"I'll be right back."

He walked outside, dodging some mud puddles that had formed from the past two days of rain they had been experiencing. Mike was facing away from him until he heard his footsteps approaching. He turned around, extending a hand for Eric to shake.

Eric almost declined the offer but went ahead and shook it. He would look like an ass if he did that and it wasn't even Mike doing this stuff.

"How are you today, Coach?"

"Could be better, could be worse. What can I do for you?" He folded his arms over his chest, shifting his weight from his right foot to his left, a nervous reaction he had developed over the years.

Mike smirked as he put his hands in the pockets of the Texas Tech hoodie he wore. It was a facial expression that sent a chill down Eric's spine but he hid it well.

"You look like you had a sleepless night there."

That was Eric's first hint that Mike had something to do with what was going on but he didn't crack, not at the moment anyway. He, in fact, wasn't sure how to respond to the comment so he didn't say a word.

"You have a rough night?"

Eric looked at Mike right in the eye, getting directly in his face. He kept his voice low, attempting to keep his cool.

"I don't know what your problem is, but it stops _now_."

Mike flashed him a puzzled look. "Whatever do you mean? I was just making an observation."

"Enough with the horse shit, Billings. I'm onto you and what you are up to."

Billings let out a short laugh, stopping it abruptly. "You are paranoid."

"It stops now. You've had your fun." With that last sentence Eric turned on his heel and strode back to the field house. He had enough of the childish games and he was surprised at the fact that he had stood out there that long to deal with him. It was obvious the conversation hadn't solved anything but at least now he had a huge clue about everything.

"See you at practice Coach."

* * *

"Do we have to tutor Tyra today?" Julie asked as her and Landry walked out of the front doors of the high school into the courtyard, sitting down on a wooden bench underneath some oak trees. "I just want to go home and relax, not that I don't enjoy helping her."

Landry shifted his backpack to his left shoulder. "I wish. She had something going on with your mom this afternoon. Something about filling out some scholarship applications."

"You still crushing on Tyra?" Julie gave him a wink. It was so adorable when Landry had a crush on someone. She felt bad for him though; he was such a nice guy but was never lucky in the women department.

"She's my woman. We've had several moments, unspoken moments if you know what I mean."

"So in other words there has been no discussion of a relationship? How do you know she feels the same way?"

Landry smirked. "I just know. Men's intuition."

"I thought it was women intuition." Julie gave out a laugh, suddenly stopping when she saw someone peak around a tree across the street from where they were. "Did you see that?"

Landry quickly looked but Julie pushed his face away from where he was staring. "Don't be so obvious. He's across the street by that big tree, straight across from us. Don't be obvious."

"I know, you said that already!" He pretended to stretch, slowly looking adjacent to them. "Can we say pedophile?"

"That was smooth, Landry. He has no idea we are onto him." She quickly picked up her books and stood up. "How about we go back inside? There's something about creepy older men hanging around school buildings that makes me want to hide under a desk."

"Sounds good to me."

It was Mike Billings, the nemesis that had been tormenting her father for the past few days. Mike knew how much family meant to the Taylor's. It was like a huge sore spot and the way things spread in this town Eric would know about him watching his only daughter soon.

* * *

Julie saw that her father was in the office with her mom so she entered. Landry had stayed back, talking to Tyra about God knows what. She sat down; it was obvious to her parents that something was on her mind.

"Hey Jules, what's going on?" Tami fidgeted with some paperwork before putting it in a manila folder. "You look like you are ready to unload on us."

She put her books on the corner of the desk. "There was this creepy guy outside awhile ago when Landry and I were in the courtyard."

"Creepy how? Creepy as in goofy looking or creepy as in loser?" Eric knew how petty teenagers could be so he couldn't resist.

"Creepy as in hiding behind a tree and watching us from across the street. I had to come back inside."

Eric sat up in his chair. "What did this guy look like?"

"Kinda tall. He looked like a hick. Dark hair, mustache."

That was like putting fuel on a fire that was already lit with Eric. Mike was now messing with his family and that drew the line right there. He stood up, adjusting his hat.

"Where you going, hon?" Tami looked up at her husband.

"Time to start football practice." He knew that Mike would attend and that's where he could confront him. It might not be the most adult thing to do but it was his family, the most important thing in his life.

* * *

The moment practice began Eric's eyes scanned the stands for Mike. He saw Buddy of course and a few regulars that came a lot but there was no sign of the menace that sent his temper raging. He continued to watch, not even paying attention to his players.

'Just my luck, he won't have the guts to show up to practice,' he thought, but at that moment there he was, walking down to the bleacher seats where he sat like clockwork.

Eric's hands grew sweaty. Was he out of his mind? Was it wise to confront him? The police would probably be a smart choice but he could hear them now…There's no probable cause. There's no proof he was watching your daughter. There's no proof that it was him making the phone calls. All of Eric's actions were on a hunch and nothing more.

"McGill, run special teams. I'll be right back."

Before Eric made it to the bleachers Mike was already down on the track, about 15 feet from Buddy Garrity. Eric didn't even give the man a chance to say hello before he got right up in his face.

"Don't come near my daughter again."

Mike stepped back, putting his hands up in front of himself. "Whoa now Coach, what are you talking about?"

Eric lifted his baseball cap, running his hand through his hair. "I don't know what your problem is with me. Whatever it is tell me right now. Do not involve my family."

"I'm going to say this again, I don't know what you are talking about."

Eric could tell by how he was acting that he knew exactly what he spoke of. He had a snide little smirk on his face that made Eric want to hit him right there. He clenched his fists, fighting the urge.

"Don't come near them again."

Before he could walk off Mike gave him a shove, nearly knocking him down but Eric caught his balance.

"Back off there Coach! Do not get up in my face!"

That was the final blow, he had completely lost his temper. He pulled back, punching Mike across the jaw.

By this time the confrontation had caused a scene and the coaching staff was crowding around. Eric felt childish that he had involved his team in this but it was past that point. McGill quickly grabbed him, pulling him away before he did more damage.

"Settle down coach, what the hell is going on?"

Eric stared Mike straight in the eye but didn't say anything. His look spoke more than words. The expression was solid and full of anger. He wanted this to be over and was quite confused why it was happening in the first place. He had done nothing to this man.

"We are done here." With that last comment Eric walked off, leaving everyone else there with tons of questions as to why he had blown up at someone like that. They had never seen him lose his composure to the point of hitting someone.

"This isn't finished," Mike said, wiping some blood away from his lip. "It's only begun."

_TBC….._


	4. Chapter Four: Shattered

_**Author's Note: **__This chapter took a little longer to be updated for some personal reasons so I wont' bore you about that! Not sure how many people are reading this anymore so I'll post this chapter just in case someone is! Hahah! Hope you enjoy! Please forgive any mistakes and typos…sometimes they sneak in no matter how many times you seem to proofread it!_

_**Special Thanks: **__JoeDUDE for reviewing the last chapter. Thanks so much for your kind words! Also to Maryilee for helping me fuel my muse as well as reading over it to make sure things sound "okay". Thanks again!_

_**Working Class Hero Chapter Four: Shattered**_

Eric stared at the TV in his living room but didn't comprehend much of what was going on. For the first time in awhile he was actually watching something other than game film.

His hand was still throbbing from earlier when he clocked Billings during football practice. He glanced over his knuckles of his right hand, already seeing a bruise forming over his skin. It wasn't the abrasion on his body that he worried about; it was the wound on his reputation that might cause some future problems.

The sound of Tami and Julie coming through the front door startled him. His imagination took control and images of Mike Billings busting through the threshold and attacking him transpired through his mind.

Thankfully it was just his girls arriving home from the grocery store. He nodded Tami's way but focused back on the cable program despite the fact he had no idea what was going on.

"Jules, do you mind putting the food up?" Tami threw her jacket on the coat rack and sat down on the arm of the recliner beside Eric, running her hands through his hair.

"Hey hon." He gave her a small peck on the lips, enjoying the sensation her fingertips sent through him.

"What happened today Eric?" She stopped, her focus completely on what he had to say now.

It was no surprise to him that she had heard. In this town you were doomed if you passed gas when you were home alone, much less what he did.

"You heard?" He paused. Keeping his voice low, he began again. "The big shocker is who you heard it from."

"I just want to hear your side of it. I'm pretty sure what's flying around town is 75 percent bull crap."

Eric sat up, turning the TV off as he did. He could see it tomorrow, the snide glances from people, and the quiet whispers as he walked by, and worst of all, the way a crowded room would go silent as you entered. In his opinion that was one of the worst feelings in the world.

"Mike Billings has started to involve my family in whatever the hell is going on. I confronted him about it. I wanted a civilized conversation and he wanted otherwise."

Tami nodded. "Well what was said?" She tried not to sound forceful, just supportive but she wasn't sure how he took it. It almost sounded demanding and nosey but he was her husband, she had to know exactly what and why happened between her and this mysterious stranger.

"I asked him what the problem was and to involve me and not my family. Evidently he didn't like it and he resorted to shove me. I let my attitude get in the way and hit him. I had never felt more frustrated." He looked up at her, his facial expression uncertain as to why any of this was happening to them. "I set a bad example for the team. It was right in front of them."

She shook her head no, grabbing his hand. It was a tough position he was in. On one side he had to protect his family but on the other he was an icon in this town. People considered him a hero among the middle class. Hero's aren't known for going around losing their tempers with people.

"Did the police come out?"

He nodded. "Officer Robbins was there anyway, watching the practice. He saw the whole thing from the sideline. No one is pressing charges."

"Did he say anything about investigating this guy?"

"Not enough evidence. It's all speculation."

Just his luck. Nothing was going to be done unless something drastic were to happen. Maybe Mike would back off after this. The only thing Eric could do was sit and wait, and hope he could prevent what was to come next.

* * *

Tami had a long day. She loved her job but some days were worse than others were. Today seemed full of testosterone and estrogen raging throughout the entire student body at Dillon but that was expected, it was a high school and she saw that every waking minute of the day but today seemed different. Maybe it was because of all of the drama happening between Eric and this random person and she was stressed out. She knew one thing she was glad to be sitting in her driveway, ready to go in the house and put on some sweat pants and a T-shirt and lounge around. They could do without a hot meal tonight.

She slowly walked to the front of the house and noticed that the storm door had a huge hole in it where it looked as if someone had busted through it. She pulled it open and heard the grass crackle under her shoes, revealing that the main door was also damaged, from what looked like a crow bar.

Her heart began to race. She pushed the door open slowly, seeing a ransacked house in front of her. Someone definitely had broken in. She turned the entry way light on. Plants were scattered everywhere, the potting soil cascading over the tile. Whatever was recently on shelves was now all over the floor. Picture frames were broken and the pictures were ripped in half. Every room inside their home was trashed.

"Oh my God." She whispered. From what she could tell though, nothing had been taken but it was too soon to confirm that. She slowly strode back to her and Eric's room, it dawning on her that they had a hidden stash of money in a secret spot.

Her pulse quickened as she dug through the mess, finding the cash in the same spot she had left it. Thank goodness they burglar didn't come across that. She sat down, leaning her head against the wall. Why was this happening? Was it even the person that was terrorizing her husband?

She dug in her jacket pocket and grabbed her cell phone, calling Eric first despite the fact that she probably should've notified the police. She wasn't even sure if Eric would answer since football practice was going on but it was worth a shot.

Suprisingly she heard his voice on the other end after a few rings.

"Hey hon." She stopped, eyeing the bedroom, hoping and praying that this was a dream she was soon going to wake up from. "You need to come home right now."

Eric walked away from the other coaches. "Are you okay?"

She nodded as if he could hear her head rattle. "I'm fine, Julie is fine. You just need to come home."

It took a matter of minutes for him to get there as well as the Dillon Police. He didn't even take the time to close the door on the Explorer as he quickened his pace to get inside. He saw Tami standing in the kitchen, her eyes red from crying. He pulled her into a tight hug, his heart aching from seeing the hell that his family was going through.

"It's Billings, I know it is." He muttered, watching as the police walk through the house, taking note to whatever they could.

The sergeant approached him, shaking his hand.

"I'm Sergeant Johnson. Can I ask you a few questions?"

Eric nodded, letting go of Tami and returning the handshake. He wasn't in the mood for questions but the more cooperative he was the better chance they had of maybe catching whoever was behind this thing.

"Can you think of anyone that might want to do this?"

Eric smirked; it was almost a stupid question to be asking him. "I know who did this."

"You do?" The sergeant looked up from his notepad, waiting for him to continue.

"Mike Billings. New guy in town."

Sergeant Johnson eyed the coach, taking note to how jittery and flustered he was. It wasn't the same man he was used to seeing out on the football field, the composed leader. Right now he was a stressed out family man needing quick answers.

"What makes you think it's this person?"

Eric took off his baseball cap and threw it on the bar beside them, revealing his disheveled hair. He just wanted to punch out a wall at the moment.

"I guess you are the only person in this town that hasn't heard. This guy has been coming around, threatening me. Yesterday we got in a small altercation at my football practice."

The sergeant stopped him by putting his hand up. "I heard about that. But Coach, this could be a random burglary for all we know. There is not enough concrete evidence to go slap the cuffs on this guy. We need something physical to put down on a report."

Eric stepped back, taking in a deep breath. "What does this guy have to do, kill me before something can be done?"

Sergeant Johnson jotted a few notes down. "I'll tell you what. We'll go have a talk with this guy, see if he slips anything to us. If he refuses questioning that's all we can do though. Maybe we'll get lucky, maybe he'll reveal all without even knowing it."

'I could only be so lucky,' Eric thought, turning back to Tami and the mess they were left to clean up.

* * *

Eric didn't know where to start on the house. Julie and Tami were working on the bedrooms and he was left alone in the living room. No matter where he walked he seemed to step on something. He had never realized how much crap they had until it was scattered the way it was.

The police had stayed about an hour before calling it a day. They dusted for prints but the chances of them actually getting a hit were about 1 in 100. He sat down on the coach, staring down at some family pictures that were beside him. There were a few of Julie when she was younger as well as him and Tami on their wedding day.

Tami approached him, her hand brushing his shoulder. "Where to begin."

He picked up a few pieces of shredded paper and tossed them into a nearby trash bag. He didn't say anything, but had a million things he'd love to vent. He had to think up a plan to get this guy caught and out of their lives before he ruined everything they had built over the years.

"What can we do to get this guy?"

Tami sat down beside him, not sure how to take that question. Surely Eric didn't wish to harm him but somehow catch him in the act. Her mind was blank though, nothing instantly came to mind.

"I don't know." She literally had nothing to suggest or say.

"This isn't a random burglary. This is that psychotic asshole bothering us again. What the _hell _does he want? What did I do to cause him to act like this towards us?" He was finally beginning to boil over, and sadly it was Tami that was getting the brunt of it when she didn't deserve it.

"You can honestly say you don't remember him from anything? Maybe you snubbed him without knowing. You can't please everyone Eric and you know that."

He stood up and began pacing through the wreckage. Maybe it was a mistake altogether to take on this job. Dillon was crazy enough about football, much less having a stalker now.

"If that's the case does that give him the right to assault us? To stalk us?" He kicked a broken lamp, shattering it more. "I'm not God. I'm not the mayor. I'm a simple football coach just trying to make a living. That's all."

She remained seated and stared up at her extremely stressed out husband. "I hate to say this honey, but when you took head coach here that was part of the grounds of doing what you do."

"To be God?"

"No", she scoffed. "To be some sort of celebrity figure here. And you know how jealousy is. It makes people do crazy things, and that's probably what Billings' problem is. He's jealous of the life you live."

"Again I ask, what can we do to stop him?"

* * *

Mike Billings was at home playing on his computer when he heard a knock on his front door. He peaked through the peephole to see two uniformed police officers as well as one in a fancy suit. Smiling, he opened the door.

"Gentlemen, how can I help you?"

They remained out on the porch, each observing the man's behavior. The suited man spoke up, flashing his badge. "I'm Sergeant Johnson with the Dillon Police Department. Do you mind if we come in and ask you a few questions about this evening?"

Mike flashed them a questionable look as he opened the door wider for them to enter. "Sure, but I have to ask what happened this evening to have cops here at my front steps. Something happen in the neighborhood?"

Sergeant Johnson pulled out his notepad he used for every interrogation just to write things down that he might forget later. "Where were you this afternoon?"

"Depends on what time we are talking about. I went several places, had lots of errands to run."

"Between 12 and 4:30 this afternoon."

"12:00 to 2 I was having lunch at Applebee's. 2:00 until about 5:00 I wasn't even here in Dillon. I had to run to Damascus to pick up some things you can't seem to buy here in this small town."

"Can you have someone confirm this?"

Mike thought for a second. "I was alone. My waitress at Applebee's can tell you I was there though. Her name was Laurie I believe. Can I ask why you are asking me this stuff?"

Sergeant Johnson wasn't sure if he should let out much information about this but the man had a right to know why he was being questioned, otherwise he could file a complaint about it.

"There was a break in this afternoon. Someone thought you might be involved so we had to come clear things up and get your side. Thanks for your cooperation Mr. Billings. We'll keep in touch."

Mike shook his hand and let them out, giving out a laugh once the door was shut again. "They have nothing," he said to himself. "This is too much fun."

* * *

Eric had finally seen a light at the end of the tunnel from cleaning up. It was already 10:30 that night but he didn't want to stop until it was done. He wouldn't be able to rest unless he knew his house was somewhat back in order.

He was busy cleaning up around the front picture window in their living room as Tami and Julie continued to tidy up the kitchen. He had settled down a little bit though his anger was still at a boiling point. Tami had a few good things to say to him to relax him; she always had a knack for that.

"Dad, can I stop? I need to finish my homework and I'm exhausted." Julie threw a sponge in the trashcan and walked to her dad in front of the window. "It's past my bedtime anyway."

"Since when do you care about bedtime? If Matt was here you'd be begging to stay up."

"I know but this is different."

He gave her a kiss on the forehead and turned back to what he was doing. "Sure monkey noodle, sorry to keep you from your homework since I know you are just dying to do that too." The sarcasm was heavy on his voice.

"Love you too dad. Night."

They didn't know it but Mike was out in the front yard, a full view of all three of them could be seen from outside the front window. Luckily at night it was easy to see in but not easy to see out, the perfect hiding place for him near the thick bushes in the flowerbed.

Before she could make her full exit the glass of the picture window that Eric was in front of shattered completely, a huge rock the size of a softball came flying through and seemed to conveniently find it's way toward Eric, hitting him in the face head on. The force was so strong that it knocked him back but he caught himself before he fell down. He also had to dodge small shards of glass that came flying at him from the hard throw.

Blood began to pour from his nose from the hard impact of the stone. He had been punched in the nose before but this was pain he had never felt even though the rock hit more down on his mouth rather than his nose.

He gained his composure and looked out of the window, trying to spot anyone out there that could've done this but there was no sign. The yard was completely silent. Tami pulled him away in case something else came flying at them.

"Sit down Eric, you are bleeding pretty bad. Julie, stay away from the window."

She grabbed a wet washrag and put it over his mouth and nose where the source of the blood seemed to be coming from. Eric felt dizzy, almost as if he had just gotten off of a roller coaster or tilt-a-whirl so he leaned back on the couch to elevate his head.

"Are you okay hon?"

He sat up quickly, yanking the cloth from her; almost embarrassed that this had happened. What were the chances of someone hitting him like that from _outside _of the house? Talk about being at the wrong place at the wrong time. The fact that it was thrown so hard and so accurately irked him. He didn't say anything; his mind was full of so much at the moment that his mouth didn't seem to work much.

"Let's get you to the ER, the bleeding isn't slowing down."

TBC...


	5. Chapter Five: The Cold Ground

_**Author's Notes: **__Here is Chapter Five of Working Class Hero. I'm trying to update this as quickly as possible for those that are still reading it. Hope some of you are still out there! LOL!_

_**Special Thanks: Riggins33, JoeDude, me, and Maryilee, **__for taking the time to respond back to it. I really appreciate it. Also another huge shout out to Maryilee for reading this chapter and really encouraging me about it. Your help is amazing!_

_**Working Class Hero Chapter Five: The Cold Ground**_

"You are lucky your nose isn't broken." The doctor moved the gauze over Eric's face. "The majority of the impact was your mouth anyway." He wiped more blood clean off of his skin and turned back to the sink. "Over the counter pain medicine will help you manage."

Eric nodded, looking in the mirror adjacent to the exam table he was sitting on. He hated doctor's offices, always had. He came in just to calm Tami down and to make sure nothing was broken, and thankfully nothing was. Tami entered the exam room, a worried look on her face as she grabbed Eric's hand.

"The police are out in the waiting room. They need a statement."

The doctor nodded, confirming he was done. "Just take it easy the next couple of days. You are probably going to have some headaches."

Eric shook his hand. "Thanks." They walked out in the waiting room where two uniformed cops were waiting. Julie was across the room staring at the floor. Eric could tell that she was going through some turmoil too. She didn't deserve this, she should be at home in bed, preparing for the next day at school, not sitting in an emergency room wondering why a rock was sent through their front living room.

"Hello Coach. We just need to know what happened tonight back at your home."

Eric looked around at all of the people sitting within earshot, and he noted the possibility of these people eavesdropping on his situation. The last thing he wanted was rumors flying around to add to the fire. He knew word would get around that he had a visit to the ER and just looking at his face the town's people would know something had happened. He now had to think of a way to tell everyone what took place because the questions would all be gunned at him from every direction.

"Gentlemen, can we take this somewhere more private?"

The police officer on his left pointed to a vacant coffee room. "How about in there?"

Eric shook his head no. "I need some fresh air. Let's go outside."

Julie and Tami followed; they were witnesses in this so they were needed for questioning as well. They stood out in a courtyard on the south side of the building that was obviously unoccupied since it was almost midnight.

Eric felt the humid air hit his face and it calmed him down. The smell of fall was in the air and that only meant that cold weather was on the way but he was ready for a change. The dog days of summer really wore him out at times.

"So earlier today your wife discovered your house was broken into?" One of the officers jotted some notes down, waiting on a response from coach.

"Yes sir." His voice was a little husky when answering as he shifted his weight. The more questions sent his way the more frustrated he got. It wasn't like they were going to do anything; they still had no proof that it was Mike Billings.

"Can you tell me what happened this evening, Coach?"

Eric ran a hand over his face, forgetting about the wound around his mouth and nose. A bruise was already forming and the soreness was setting in quicker than he expected. He winced a little, gritting his teeth before he began to answer him.

"My family and I were cleaning up the mess that was left. I was standing in front of my front window in the living room when a rock flew through the glass and hit me in the face. My wife brought me to the ER and now I'm standing here talking to you when we should be trying to find out who did this."

The aggravation in his tone of voice was obvious to everyone that was standing there. Tami wrapped her arm around his, trying to comfort him.

He felt her embrace, thankful that he had her there. He probably would be in a lot worse trouble if she weren't present to calm his nerves down. There was a short awkward silence as both cops wrote some things down.

"So we see you have an idea of who this might be."

Eric let out a heavy sigh. What was it with these guys? Did they have to hear things a million times before they took the initiative to do something? He kicked some gravel under his tennis shoe and looked up, his temper flaring out.

"Look, I told two other cops that it's Mike Billings. There's no maybe about it. He's doing this."

"What makes you assume this?"

Eric moved forward, getting a little closer to one of the cops. He had no intention of hitting this guy but he wanted to show him that he was not too happy. "Assume? I said I know. What is it going to take to get this guy away from my family?"

The cop backed up a little, noting that they were about to make it where Coach Taylor wasn't up for anymore questioning. "We can put an unmarked car outside of your house. We can watch it 24 hours a day. That's the best thing we can do at the moment."

* * *

"An unmarked car outside of the house. A lot of good that is going to do." Eric stared out of the front door into the empty street, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he tossed ideas around in his head.

Tami pulled him in the threshold, shutting the door behind him. She just wanted him to calm down and relax but that was like waiting for hell to freeze over. She leaned in for a small peck on the lips, hoping that wouldn't hurt him too bad.

"Eric, who's to say that the unmarked car won't help?"

He followed her into the living room, revealing the shattered glass and broken window. "It's a small town. You don't think a random unmarked car won't tip someone off?"

"It'll keep him from coming around the house in fear of being seen."

"What about at school? What about when Julie is away from us? I've gotta do something. The police obviously isn't going to."

* * *

That night Eric could not sleep for anything. He'd roll over and make sure Tami was okay. He'd get up out of bed and check on Julie who remained sound asleep. It was only 1:45 but it seemed like it should be time to get up and go to work. He leaned against the wall in the hallway, staring down at the dark kitchen and living room, his imagination envisioning Mike Billings standing in the shadows of a night light that was cascading across that part of the house.

He closed his eyes and opened them quickly, the image dissipating from his mind. He wiped some sweat off of his brow, catching his breath as he walked to the kitchen. He rummaged through the fridge. He wasn't particularly hungry; he mainly was looking for a beer. Beers always helped make him drowsy. He spotted one in the back and grabbed the silver can, cracking it open with his index finger. The foam trickled up through the small hole and he slurped it down quickly, avoiding a spill on the floor.

Sitting down at the kitchen table he stared down. He took a gulp of the beverage, savoring the flavor as it made it's way down to his stomach. What was he going to do about Mike? He had to do something; he couldn't live out the rest of his life with nights like this. Surely Mike would slip up and reveal enough to arrest him. He couldn't go on assumptions though, he needed something concrete.

He heard footsteps down the hallway, making his heart begin to pound out of his chest. The silhouette belonged to Tami and he was relieved to see his wife standing at the doorway.

"Hon, what are you doing up?" She made her way to the table and joined him, taking note to the Coors Light in his hand.

"Couldn't sleep. Thought a beer might make me tired."

Tami didn't say anything but stared him right in the eye. He was not okay. He never was a heavy drinker, maybe he'd knock a few back with dinner or when he was watching Monday Night Football but never in the middle of the night to help with sleep.

"You wanna talk about anything?"

He sat back in his chair, sliding the beer can back and forth between his hands.

"There's nothing to talk about. I won't be able to relax until Mike is gone."

Tami was sure that her next question was probably not going to make her husband too happy but it was the only thing she could think to ask.

"You think that this could be someone other than this Billings guy? You ever think that there is a possibility that it's a dumb kid doing this?"

Eric smirked and let out an annoyed laugh. How could she question him after all that had happened? He was so frustrated that he almost didn't even resort to answer her.

"Have you ever thought that I have been dealing with this nut job for the past couple of weeks? There's a fine line between a crazed fan and a psychopathic stalker. Buddy Garrity is a crazed fan, Mike Billings is a psychopathic stalker."

"And what has made you think that?" She saw his facial expression changed and put her hand up, stopping him from speaking. "Hear me out, let's set this all out on the table. You really need to let some of this out."

He stared at her for a few seconds before he answered. His gaze was haunting to Tami, almost like he was looking through her. She had seen him distraught before but right now it was literally scaring her. She didn't blame him though, he was always so protective of his family and now someone was barging in on their personal lives as if they were fighting off the paparazzi or something.

"Well the main thing is what happened with Julie. Him peeking around a tree at her. Also, when we had our confrontation at practice. You should've seen his reaction Tami. It was obvious. That's all I can say. You had to be there." He tapped his index finger on the hard wood, licking his lips as he listened to his words linger.

She didn't say anything but grabbed his hand, squeezing it hard. "I believe you Eric."

"I've gotta do something." He whispered, returning her grasp with a squeeze of his own.

* * *

Eric knew that everyone had heard about the incident at his house when he had pulled into his parking spot. He was surprised at the fact that there was some reporters waiting for him. Shaking his head as he approached them, he held his hand up to warn them to stand back. He even tried to look down and away to avoid any exposing pictures of the bruised face.

"Man, if I'm the best news story you people have you might want to find another line of business." He pushed through a few of them, opening the main door to the field house and slamming it in their faces. This was unreal.

He glared into the vacant weight room, his mind racing a mile a minute as if someone was changing the channel inside his head. He had sat up all night long, even after he and Tami had talked, contemplating what he was going to do to catch Mike in a trap. There was a mirror to the right of him where he caught a glimpse of himself.

Dark circles formed underneath his green eyes. His complexion was pale from lack of sleep and the one thing that stood out the most was just under his nose where a dark bruise had quickly formed from the rock that was strategically thrown through his window. He still couldn't fathom how the hit was dead on, unless it was mere chance that it had hit him the way it had. Knowing his luck that's what it was, luck and not skill on the culprit's part.

"Coach, everything okay this morning?"

Coach McGill was standing near the squat rack, noticing that Eric was still leaning against the door and hadn't made a full entrance.

Eric nodded, "Yeah, just tossing some things around."

Mac followed him into his office and watched the demeanor of the head coach and how it had changed drastically in a matter of days.

"I heard about what happened last night."

Eric did not reply but sat down, taking his hat off to reveal his disheveled hair. He ran his hands over his face, yawning as he did. It was going to be a long day.

"You and the whole town I'm sure." He flipped through his daily calendar, trying to look busy.

Mac wasn't sure if Eric was up to talking about it, he was always so hard to read in tense situations until someone finally pushed him over the edge. "If you need anything you know I'm here."

"Thanks Mac, I appreciate it. Things will blow over." He knew that was a lie the minute it slipped out of his lips. It was a storm that continued to back build with each second of the day. He hoped that Mac would get the hint that he wasn't up for a discussion and thankfully his assistant read his mind, making his exit.

'Tonight. I'll do something tonight.' He thought to himself, sifting through a mound of paperwork that had been thrown on his desk.

* * *

That evening after practice he didn't even want to waste the time to stop at his house. He wanted to get this over with. He wasn't sure what he was doing or if he really had a concrete plan but he was definite of one thing, he was on his way to Mike's house to see if he could solve _anything._

He grabbed his cell phone from a cup holder near him in his truck, dialing Tami. He was obviously going to be late for dinner and wanted to let her know. She'd have a heart attack if he told her what he was really doing so he had to think up a quick lie before she answered. It caught him off guard to hear Julie's voice on the other end.

"Hello?"

"Hey darlin', what are you up to?" He tried to sound cheery not to tip her off.

"Helping mom with supper."

"Can I talk to your mom right quick? Thanks, love ya." As he waited he could hear some clanks and some conversation but he couldn't make out what was being said.

"Hey Eric."

"Hey hon. I'm calling to let you know I'll be a little late for supper. You guys can eat without me but I will be home later."

Tami arched her eyebrow, moving the phone from her left ear to her right. "What you got going on? I'm just making spaghetti anyway."

He ran his fingertips over the smooth steering wheel, hoping his lie would come out okay. "I've gotta meet Buddy at the dealership. He said something about the boosters voting on a thing for the team."

"What thing?" Her voice was a little high pitched.

"Just a thing. Not sure, that's why I'm going to talk to him." He rolled his eyes at himself. 'Don't blow this.' "Look, I'll be home in a little bit. I just called so you wouldn't worry. I gotta go, I love you."

"Love you too."

He closed the face of his phone and turned on the road where Mike lived. He felt bad for lying to her but if he told her what he was really up to his headstrong wife would never allow it. She might show up and sabotage the whole thing, whatever it was that he was going to do when he got there. Hopefully he'd think up something soon.

He pulled the Explorer to the curb about 2 blocks down from where Mike lived. He didn't want to tip him off with his vehicle so he'd walk the rest of the way. The cold night air nipped at him as he exited, walking up on the sidewalk in hopes of not being seen by anyone.

His mind raced as he walked. Was he sane for doing this? He had time to calm down so he wasn't acting out of anger, at least not the anger he was feeling the night before. He reached Cherry Street where Mike's house was 3 houses down from the intersection he was standing in.

The wind picked up a little bit; it was obvious a cold front was coming in. He bit his bottom lip, tempted to back out of the whole thing but he fought off what his heart was telling him and crossed the street, making it to Mike's side yard. The kitchen and living room lights were on and he could hear a TV playing. Mike was home.

He peered through some blinds that were half way open. Mike was there a second ago and now was not. His heart began to race so fast he could feel it in his temples. Mike seemed to know his every move and here he was standing in his yard.

'Where in the hell did he go?' Eric asked, looking side to side. He felt so dirty acting this way but he _had _to do something. He couldn't believe he was resorting to Mike's level. So many mixed emotions came flooding inside him. One minute he wanted to run away and never look back and the next he wanted to stay there, to enter the home and confront this no good piece of trash.

Before he could make a decision the sound of a gun cocking could be heard from behind him.

"Turn around, slowly."

Eric did as he was told, and as he turned he could see Mike in his peripheral vision. Sweat poured from his brow despite the fact that it was about 45 degrees outside.

"Can I ask you what you are doing here?"

Eric stared at the gun, a 9-millimeter Taurus. He couldn't get his voice to work; all he could see was the black and silver gun in the menace's grasp.

Mike tilted his head to the side, an evil grin on his face. "I'm glad you showed up, we are going to have lots of fun."

He reared back; slamming the gun across Eric's the face, sending him to the ground where the coach of the Dillon Panthers fell unconscious in the cold dirt.

TBC….


	6. Chapter Six: Peril

_**Author's Notes: **__Hey everyone, wow look how fast this is updated! I'm really enjoying writing this so hopefully the updates will continue to be this quick! I'm trying to keep this story as true to FNL storylines as I can, but I'm also trying to write something a little different to refresh you readers out there. Hope you enjoy it!_

_**Special Thanks: JoeDude, Maryilee, treehero, and riggs **__for your responses! Also to everyone else who has taken the time to read and reply back about it, you really keep my muse going. Also to Maryilee again for reading it over and encouraging me! Thanks so much!_

_There is some violence in this chapter, much more than the previous five so just a word of warning! _

_**Working Class Hero Chapter Six: Peril**_

Silence was the first thing Eric had noticed when he finally had awakened from unconsciousness. It was eerie, almost like a story from the Twilight Zone where everyone had disappeared off of the face of the earth, leaving him alone with millions of questions on his mind. He never liked being alone, maybe a couple hours out of the day but the thought of not being near anything intelligent made his skin crawl.

Darkness was the second thing he had taken note to. Wherever he was it was so pitch black that he couldn't see the end of his nose, much less where his location was. He told himself not to panic, that he could figure this out if he'd keep his cool but it took all he could to keep his breathing labored and his heart rate down.

He had never really been claustrophobic but in this situation he began to freak out a little bit. When he was younger he never could sleep with the covers pulled over his head, but he could climb into cramped places in closets, usually his favorite place to hide during the game of hide and seek. He was scared now because it was dark and he was clueless as to where he was or what was going on, adding on to the fear.

Pain quickly became evident the first time he tried to move his body out of the awkward position it was in. Discomfort shot from his head down to his stomach just from the mere motion of shifting his head. His body was twisted up like a pretzel from the cramped in space he was shoved in. From what he could tell he was in a fetal position, his knees were shoved up in his chest making his legs fall asleep completely.

His breathing began to pick up just from the way his body was situated. He was bent over, his lungs not able to take in a full deep breath. It felt as if he had just got done running several suicides. He squirmed, trying to find more room to breathe. Each breath he took in got quicker and quicker as each second passed by.

He lifted his right arm, moaning out in pain from being stuck the same way for God knows how long. He felt above himself and around and still could not make out where he was. He held his breath trying to hear as best as he could but it was still quiet, just a low, unknown hum could be heard.

Sweat poured down his brow from the heat he was feeling. Earlier that evening he remembered it being pretty chilly outside, the first signs of autumn finally hitting the town. Now you couldn't tell that from the way the temperature radiated throughout the space. His eyes began to sting from the sweat dripping into them. He tried reaching his hand up to his face to rub the pain away, but that was a mistake, only accenting the burning sensation.

He closed his eyes, wishing that the minute he opened them that he'd wake up in bed next to Tami and this was all some horrible nightmare that his imagination had thought up but that obviously was not the case. His mind began to race. He thought about Tami and how he at least told her he loved her on their last phone call despite the fact he gave her a blatant lie. His future was uncertain and now he wasn't even sure if he'd every see his beautiful wife again.

Julie came to his mind as well. Fifteen years old, hopefully she wouldn't lose her father that young. He wanted to hug them again, to rethink this dumb plan of confronting Mike. Look at the hole it got him in, he wasn't even sure where he was or if he'd come out alive. How could he be so stupid? He should've known that messing with someone so unpredictable could have harsh consequences.

He suddenly felt a jolt that sent his body sliding up against a wall that was behind him. His body didn't like that too much and he let out another yell, gritting his teeth from the soreness felt throughout him. He heard a slam and suddenly the lid to whatever he was in opened, revealing Mike standing over him. The cool fall air hit him, refreshing his face.

It was still dark outside but to his vision it was bright from being closed in for so long. He squinted, figuring out that he was in the trunk of a car and Mike had taken him somewhere out in the country, out of sight from anything or anyone that could help him out.

"Crawl your ass outta there." Mike grinned, pointing the familiar gun at him. "C'mon, I don't got all night."

Eric continued to stare at him, not entirely sure what to do at the moment. There was no way he could move out of the position he was in unless someone had helped him. He didn't move, just waited to see what Mike would do next.

"Are you going to get up?"

Eric began to speak but his voice wouldn't work, so he gave a small cough to clear his throat. "I cant…I can't move." His voice was still raspy from not having anything to drink.

Mike holstered the gun and Eric thought for a moment that if he could actually get his body to do what he wanted it to he'd lunge up and try to take this guy but that was not possible at the moment. Mike would easily take him down. He felt Mike's hard grip on his shoulders as he pulled him over the hard metal bumper and to the ground where his body came to rest again, this time allowing his legs to stretch out underneath him.

Mike smirked down at him, pacing around him. "This is too easy Coach. You try to act tougher than you really are."

He kicked some gravel at Eric, sending small pieces of rock at his face. He felt the hard impact and the dust fly around him, putting his arms over his face but not in time for a few fragments to hit him. Before he could even react he felt Mike's boot collide with his stomach, sending yet another sharp pain through him. Coughing erupted from his trachea from the unexpected slam and he crouched back into a fetal position, trying to ease the anguish he was experiencing.

"Can you at least walk?"

Trying to avoid making Mike mad again, he fought through and got up on his own two feet, dizziness setting in as he struggled to keep his footing. He took hold of the side of the car, remaining vertical. Mike grabbed his right arm, pulling him towards what looked like a vacant house in the middle of a cornfield. He shoved Eric through the door first, revealing a living room that hadn't been lived in for well over 10 years.

"Get comfortable Eric, it's going to be a long night."

* * *

Tami couldn't take it anymore. She had been calling Eric's cell phone for the past hour only to get his voicemail message she had now memorized.

_This is Coach Taylor. Leave a message and I'll get back to you."_

She rolled her eyes, hanging the phone up. It was now 11:00 and still no word from him. Normally when it got this late he would call her just to let her know something. Was she overreacting? She wasn't sure, she just knew one thing, something didn't feel right.

She folded up the blanket she had spread out over her lap and placed it on the back of the couch, deciding to make one more phone call before she had a complete panic attack.

Buddy Garrity's phone was saved in their caller ID from his obsessive phone calls the nights before a game so she sifted through, quickly finding it. The phone rang a couple times before she heard his voice on the other end.

"Hello?"

"Hey Buddy, this is Tami." She paused, running her free hand through some hair that fell in her face. "Is Eric with you?"

"No Tami, he's not. Is everything okay?"

She sat down hard on the couch trying not to make it obvious that she was completely distraught.

"Everything is okay. Did you guys have a meeting earlier?"

"No, I haven't talked to Eric today. Are you sure everything is okay?"

A tear fell down her cheek from frustration. Where in the hell was her husband? "Thanks Buddy, everything is okay. We just got our signals crossed." She hung up the phone, staring at the clock. Hopefully he had gotten sidetracked and was talking football with a local. Why had he told her he was meeting Buddy and didn't? It was too soon to panic but if he wasn't home by midnight she'd call the police, she just felt like she was overreacting.

* * *

Eric wanted to fight back so bad, to just turn around and knock the crap out of this guy but when a 9-millimeter was pointed at you the only smart thing to do was cooperate. He was never one to just roll over and die so he had to think up something quick, something to get himself out of this situation and back to Dillon.

From what he could tell there was one piece of furniture in this place, a rusted kitchen chair in a far corner near the back door. To his left there were metal bars going across what looked like where a fire place used to be. At that instance he knew that Mike was more than likely going to tie him up to that, it was the only secure place to be found.

Mike gave him a small shove again causing Eric to give out a deep grunt. His body just wanted to lay down and sleep but that wasn't going to happen, he had to stay alert to survive.

"Get down on the floor." Billings grabbed the back of Eric's neck, sending his body to the hard concrete with the tight grip from his fingertips. His grasp was so tight on Eric's skin that for a split second he could feel himself choking, but thankfully Mike had let loose and stood up, that evil stare being shot through him yet again.

Without another word being spoken Mike went to work, grabbing a rope from a small black duffel bag he had been carrying around on his shoulder. He raised both of Eric's arms up high, firmly placing the rope around each of them and then securing them together with one tight tug. He felt the rope burn his skin instantly from the snug fit around his wrists. He could feel something moist trickle down to his elbow, the warmth of it made it clear to him that he was already bleeding from the gash's the ropes had formed. Eric was sitting up on the floor, his back erect with his arms raised high. At first it was a comfortable position to be in but over time he knew his arms and back wouldn't be able to handle it.

"Got you in a little hog tie there." Mike pursed his lips, spitting at Eric. He missed the first time but the second line of saliva went sailing right into Eric's hair.

Eric clenched his jaw trying his best not to lose his temper. There wasn't much he could do, the more he moved the more the twine would dig into him and cause more damage so he had to stay as still as he possibly could. His arms were already starting to grow tired and weak from being held up over his head the way they were. His lower back cramped up from the pull of his muscles that were not meant to sit that way for a long period of time. It felt almost as if he had thrown it out from lifting something to heavy.

He continued to stare at the gun that Mike was tormenting him with. He'd switch it from his left hand, then to his right almost flaunting that he had all the power right there, and within a split second he could end it all for Eric. With just a small flick of his index finger the trigger could be pulled and a 9-millimeter hollow point would be sent flying at his face.

"Man on that football field no one can get your ass to shutup. Get you here with me and you won't say two words. What gives there, Mr. Coach Taylor?"

Eric had one good question lingering over him that he was dying to know the answer to. He knew if he asked though that he'd never get a straight response but it wouldn't hurt to try. Now was his invitation to do it, despite the fact he was scared to do anything in fear of sending Mike on a rampage.

"Why? Why are you doing this?" It hurt his face to even talk from the trauma he had experienced already.

Mike pulled the old chair that Eric had spotted over to where they were, sitting down hard in it, a small squeak could be heard from the weight put down on the worn out metal. He folded his arms over his chest, the gun pointed away from Eric for the time being. 'Another opportunity' Eric thought, but each time one came along he was either tied up or completely numb and unable to move.

"Why am I doing this?" Mike stared down at the floor and back up at him. "Why am I doing this? Do you really have to ask that question Taylor?"

Eric nodded. It was so hard to read this man. Was he bipolar? Manic-depressive? There was definitely some mental illness ailing him, that or he was just a psychopath that was randomly stalking him. Eric thought for a second that he might be able to talk him down, to get him calm to where he'd unload his pistol and call it quits. He had to do something; he couldn't sit like this the rest of his life.

"I honestly think that you don't want to do this." Eric shifted his weight, groaning a bit from the rope that secured him. He closed his eyes when he felt more blood trickle down his arm. He knew the rope was causing friction over a delicate part of his wrist, a spot that could easily bleed out if cut deep enough.

"And what makes you think that, smart one?" Mike leaned forward in the chair.

"You can't give me a reason as to why you are doing this. I have done nothing to you." He stared at the familiar barrel, memorizing it's every color and screw, right down to the fine print markings and brand name. When all you could do was sit and wait description and surroundings seemed to stand out a lot more than before.

"I don't have to waste my time telling you. Your loved ones will know soon enough, when they find your body rotting out in the field out there. They'll know."

Eric's heart skipped a beat. He could tell this guy was definitely capable of taking his life; he had proven that just from recent events. His temper was running on a short fuse.

"You'll never get away with it," Eric retorted, his eyes glaring up at the nuisance. "You've left so much evidence behind.." Before he could finish his sentence he felt a hard blow to his side where Mike had sent his knee, but he couldn't crouch down to sooth himself, he had to remain sitting up and take the heavy blows.

He yelped, knowing that Mike had more than likely broke one of his ribs from the crack he had felt internally. He continued to pound Eric in the side, alternating from his left knee to his foot until they finally subsided. He was in so much discomfort that he had to close his eyes and let out a few yells of despair. He had no way to protect himself; his body was open to anything that Mike would throw at him. He couldn't even put his arms over himself to flinch away.

His breathing grew fast and heavy and his heart was racing so fast that no matter what he tried he could not calm himself down. He slowly opened his eyelids, revealing his bloodshot irises. Mike was right in his face, inches away from him. Eric held his breath, trying to avoid catching the stench of alcohol on Mike's breath.

"Next time you only speak when you are answering a question. Your opinions don't matter anymore, super coach. You are dead to the world, just a lost soul, a memorial on Dillon's courthouse lawn."

An uneasy feeling shot through Eric's stomach. The pure evilness in Mike's eyes made him want to puke. This was truly playing out like a horror movie you'd pay seven bucks to go see on a Saturday night, not something he was literally supposed to be experiencing.

"You don't look so good coach. Not the pristine appearance I'm used to seeing."

His face was covered in dried blood from the blow Mike gave him in his side yard. He could feel the caked on dirt as well from being on the ground and then in a dirty trunk, Mike's comment about his appearance made him more aware of how badly he needed to be cleaned up.

"I'm going to leave for a few minutes, there's a few loose ends I gotta tie up but I'll be right back. If you attempt to even move I'll know so I suggest you just stay there like a good little boy. I won't be long. Remember I've got eyes in the back of my head."

With that last comment Mike made his exit, leaving Eric alone in the vacant farmhouse. He looked around, feeling something crawl across his leg, noticing a rat putting his front legs on him.

"Oh my God," he yelled out, kicking his leg up and sending the rat about five feet across from him. Closing his eyes yet again, he said a silent prayer to himself. Now was his time to think up a plan. Fighting through the pain he began to maneuver his hands, pushing through the rope but it wouldn't budge. It didn't solve anything, just caused more burns on his flesh. Letting out a deep breath he stopped, "God please help me," he whispered. "Don't fall asleep," he told himself, fighting off his heavy eyelids that kept fluttering shut.

It was in these quiet moments that his thoughts overtook him, haunting him. He thought about Tami's smile, her laughter, and the way she always cheered him up no matter how rotten of a day he was having. He wanted to feel her embrace, he comforting arms engulf him and bring him close to her sweet smelling skin. She probably had realized by now that something wasn't right and he could only hope and pray that the cops were cooperating with her. Right now it was the only flicker of hope he had.

* * *

Tami had had enough. It was now 11:45. She had told herself she'd wait until midnight but she couldn't take it anymore. She grabbed her cell phone and ran outside to the unmarked car that was parked on their curb.

She knocked on the window on the passenger side and the cop quickly rolled it down, a questionable look on his face. He could tell she was panicked just from her demeanor.

"What's wrong Mrs. Taylor?"

She swallowed hard, fighting off some tears. She still wasn't sure if she was overreacting but this was so not like Eric and under the circumstances that her family had been experiencing she knew that she was doing something right.

"Eric hasn't come home. I'm not sure where he is."

The cop sat up in his seat, glancing down at his watch. "Any idea where he was going this evening?"

So bad did Tami want to throw her phone at him. She out of anyone knew her husband the best and it was not right that he wasn't home.

"The last time I saw him was this morning in my office around 9:15. He called me after football practice and said he was going to a meeting and he'd be home later. Meetings never take until after midnight and when he's late he _always _calls." She tried to speak slowly and clearly but it came out more like she was panicked and annoyed.

Both police officers exited the Crown Victoria and walked up the sidewalk to the front door. "Where did he say he was going?"

"Garrity Motors. I called Buddy though and he said they didn't have a meeting tonight."

The officer nodded. "And you've tried calling him?"

"Of course I've tried calling him. Since about 10:30 I get nothing but a voicemail, it doesn't even ring as if he's turned it off."

The cop to the left pulled out his radio, pushing in the side button to call dispatch. "DPD, this is Officer Fritz, we need Sergeant Davis at the Taylor residence, possible missing person on our hands." He turned back to Tami, a solemn look on his face. "Mrs. Taylor, normally we don't start investigating something like this unless it's been 24 hours, but for you we'll make an exception."

She nodded, noticing that Julie was now awake and out of bed. She pulled her daughter in for a tight hug, tears streaming down her face and soaking into her daughter's long blonde hair. She couldn't hold it in anymore.

TBC….


	7. Chapter Seven: In The Deep

_A/N: Here's chapter seven to those who are still reading! Enjoy!_

_Special Thanks: to everyone who has taken the time to read and reply back about this. You really help me out and you know who you are! Thanks again!!_

_**Working Class Hero Chapter Seven: In The Deep**_

It had been a good 30 minutes and Mike still hadn't come back. Eric stared into the darkness, his mind still wondering through subject after subject, some good thoughts, and some nightmares. Had Mike left him here for dead? Surely not, he was having way too much fun messing with him; he wouldn't back off so easily.

Eric shifted his body weight, feeling a deep burn within his shoulders. His arms had pretty much went numb from the upright position they were being held in. He gritted his teeth as some sweat poured from his brow. It was a cool night but the air circulation in the house seemed poor to him.

It felt good to stretch his shoulders out but a deep cramp shot throughout his back, feeling like a Charlie horse you get in the middle of the night unexpectedly. He let out a deep groan, trying to avert his body in a different direction to ease the tension that had built up. No matter how he moved the cramp only seemed to flare up more.

"DAMMIT!" He yelled, sending an echo throughout the vacant walls surrounding him. He wanted to punch something, to take his frustration out on anything near him but the only free limb he had were his legs, and they were so weak that he could barely move them. He bit down on his tongue, closing his eyes when he felt the rope dig deeper into his wrists. From the friction they were causing he could swear it was down to the bone just from the discomfort he was feeling.

At that moment there wasn't a single spot on his body that wasn't feeling some form of pain. Even emotionally he was hurting. He had never been so confused about anything. Mike still hadn't answered his questions about why this was happening. Had he done something to this man without even realizing it? No matter how deep he dug in his memory Mike didn't show up.

He opened his eyes, feeling a burning sensation from more sweat falling into his eyelashes. He looked into a dark hallway adjacent to him; a dark silhouette traced the threshold before him. His heart racing, at first he wasn't sure who it was.

"Tami?" It looked just like her. "What are you doing here?" The silhouette began to move, only away from him. "Where are you going?"

It quickly faded away, leaving him alone again. He closed and opened them again and again, hoping that maybe it would appear but there was nothing, not even the sound of something creaking across the wooden floors.

He licked his lips but his mouth was so dry that it didn't moisten them. Swallowing made it much more evident that he was growing dehydrated just from the soreness he was feeling. He shifted his weight again but stopped when he heard a door to a car open and shut outside.

His pulse picked up quickly; hopefully it was help coming to save him but the way his luck was going it was Mike. The face that came through the rickety storm door proved him right, that it was Mike and that he had no more luck left at all. He let out a deep breath trying to calm down but just the site of the menace made him want to puke from fear as well as anger.

The fact that he was uncertain of his future at this moment made him extremely sick to his stomach. He had no idea what Mike had up his sleeve nor what kind of torture he was going to send to him this time around. He had seen one too many horror movies in his time that his imagination ran wild with what could happen to him.

"Just so you know," Mike broke the silence, sitting down in the same chair he had before. "I was listening to a police scanner and that wild cat wife of yours has notified the Dillon Police."

Eric fought hard not to smile but it was the best news he had heard in a long time. He couldn't fight off a smirk that developed on his lips, hoping Billings wouldn't catch it.

"You find it amusing, do you?"

'He said I could talk if I was asked a question.' Eric thought. "No, not amusing. Just what I expected though." His voice was deep and raspy from lack of moisture down his esophagus.

Mike arched an eyebrow, leaning forward in the chair. "How so?"

Eric traced a swollen spot on his lip with his tongue where a sore had begun to form from the hard impact it had endured. "Just that my wife is pretty protective of me." He paused, trying to read Mike's facial expression. He wanted to get a rise out of him, but not to the point that he'd turn into a punching bag again. "If anything happens to me she's like a rabid dog."

Mike didn't say anything, just studied his prey's demeanor. He had to be smart, Eric might be playing a trick on him to catch him in a trap. "Elaborate on that."

"Am I allowed to speak?" Eric's voice became high pitched and the sarcasm was thick. "Cause you told me earlier that I could only speak if I was asked a question."

With that last remark Mike stood up, kicking Eric directly in the stomach. Again more pain shot through him and he was left helpless and unable to slouch over to attempt to comfort himself. He closed his bloodshot eyes, it was the only thing he could think to do at the moment to try and help himself. He just wanted to curl up in a ball and crawl away to a corner but this was beyond what he wanted. He knew the split second he said that that he'd regret it but he couldn't help it, his only defense at the moment were his words. Mike waited as Eric coughed, and when that had subsided he began to speak again.

"Don't be a smart ass, it's gonna get you killed quicker than what I had planned." He paced back and forth in front of Coach, staring down at him with his black eyes that haunted Eric. "Now, what about your wife?"

Eric had to gain his composure. For a moment his vision was extremely blurry and his breathing was so out of control that he couldn't even think a steady, rational thought. He stretched out his back, fighting off another cramp that had developed from the jarring that his body had just experienced.

"Answer me or I'll do that to you again."

Eric stared up at the man. What more could happen to him before his body rebelled against him and decided to shut down altogether? He could slowly feel his body grow weaker and weaker with each second that passed by. He was losing blood from his wrists as well as the gashes on his face and abdomen. They were small wounds but enough to add up, especially from the malnutrition he was going through. He knew that a couple of his ribs were broken just from how painful his chest felt as well as literally hearing them crack when Mike impacted them. He couldn't even take in deep breaths in fear of expanding his rib cage and making the pain accentuate that much more.

"She's..going to find me." He had to pause a couple of times in between words just to gain more oxygen in his lungs as if he had run a marathon. "She's going to find me…and your ass is…going to be locked up forever."

Mike stopped pacing and gave Eric a smile. "She's going to find you dead in that corn field is what she's gonna do. There's no way she'll find you in time, especially where they are looking."

"What makes you think you are going to get away with this?" Thankfully his breathing had slowed down some so he was able to say a full sentence without having to stop for air.

Mike laughed, backhanding Eric across the face, jolting his body to the right and quickly stopping him when the slack in the ropes had ran out. "I didn't ask you a question coach."

Silently Eric said a prayer. At least he had some shred of hope. Tami had contacted the authorities, and they were tracing his footsteps. His only worry was how they would find this vacant house miles out of town, before it was too late.

* * *

"Mrs. Taylor, they are canvassing the area as we speak. We are looking for your husband's vehicle, we are notifying anyone who might've come into contact with him within the past few hours. You need to calm down." The chief of the Dillon Police Department put a hand on Tami's shoulder and she quickly shoved it away, grabbing onto Julie's hand.

"Chief Vaughn, with all due respect I want to say that you do not need to patronize me. How do you expect me to calm down when something like this has happened?"

"Mrs. Taylor, we don't even know if he's missing."

She looked away, wiping a stray tear from the corner of her eye. She noticed that Julie too was crying so she pulled her in tightly, sobbing uncontrollably. She felt Julie's tears soak into her collar, hugging her even closer.

"It'll be okay Jules, your father is okay." She turned back to the Chief; her eyes stained from the mascara that had began to run down her face. "Chief Vaughn, I suggest that you get your boys moving. My husband _is _missing, he doesn't just not show up for something." Her voice was stern; she wanted something done, and fast.

* * *

Eric could feel himself dozing off. He fought his heavy eyelids, trying to stay awake just for fear of what Mike might do to him if he wasn't alert. That and the fact he wasn't sure what kind of medical shape he was in, obviously from the trauma he was going through it wasn't something positive.

He took in a deep breath, feeling a sharp pain down his left side. At this point his arms were almost completely numb, he had a little movement in them but for the most part they were getting more useless by the second. No matter how much he tried to relax he could not control his breathing.

His neck was slick with blood and the cold feeling on his shirt collar was a sure sign that it had absorbed all of the liquid it was going to. He had blood that streamed down his arms from the rope burns, this too soaking into the cotton of his shirtsleeves. He fought off another wave of exhaustion, staring at Mike who was sharpening a knife. 'Probably for mind games,' Eric thought.

"This might very well be the weapon that takes your life, Eric." He moved the blade back and forth on the sharpening block, studying the shiny silver that reflected off of some moonlight that cascaded through a front window. "It's almost daylight out which means this is your dying day."

Eric swallowed hard. At the moment he was in so much pain that death didn't sound half-bad. But he couldn't think like that. He had to make it home to Tami and Julie, they needed him. Poor Tami, she was probably worried sick about this whole ordeal.

"September 17, 1965 through October 20, 2007. That's what your headstone date will read. What do you want to be said at your eulogy?"

Eric stared up at him, a grimace across his face. He honestly wasn't sure what to say to that. He licked his dry, chapped lips, contemplating the question lingering over their heads. He shifted his weight again, groaning.

"No ideas?"

Eric nodded. "I've got plenty of ideas, I'm just not going to lower myself to your level."

Mike grinned, exposing his yellow teeth. "I'll be back, got one more errand to run before I come back and finish this for good. Sit tight, you'll be resting in peace soon."

Eric watched as he made his exit, and instantly began to fight his wrists through the ropes. The tight knot still would not budge; Mike really knew how to secure him. He did feel the right side rip a little. He looked up, seeing a small tear in the rope from the weave growing weak from the weight it had been holding.

He fought through the discomfort, pulling again, feeling another rip giveaway. The blood that had collected from his wrists had also made the grip loosen some as well. He stretched out the rope some more, another sharp pain was sent down his spine all the way down to his stomach. He yelled out, somehow that helped him ignore what his body was telling him.

Now was his time to get out. If he didn't escape this time it was over, he'd be murdered and leave Tami and Julie alone, with no father or husband. This is not how he wanted to go. Not in some old run down house, his body left out in a field only to decompose under the Texas sun.

His heart began to race fast, so fast he could swear that he could hear it echo. Working up enough energy, he pulled down one more time, his right hand pulling the rope enough for it to rip free. Instant relief shot through him as the blood rushed back into his right arm. His left hand was still up and restrained. With his free hand he grabbed the tight knot, feeling how moist it was from his blood. He hadn't realized how much he had bled until that moment, it was soaking wet.

He pulled on the knot, quickly untying it. He couldn't help but smirk but he wasn't free yet. He wasn't sure where Mike was but he knew he had to get out. Fighting exhaustion and weakness, he lifted his body up, feeling that his legs were asleep. He didn't care though, now was not the time to get caught, not after all of the pain he had just gone through to get loose. Looking all around him, he made his exit and ran as fast as he could to the tall corn.

When he reached that area of cover he suddenly felt panicked. It was either his imagination playing tricks on him or he really heard the sound of a car door open and shut. He didn't want to stick around and see so he pushed his body to continue moving, to get as far away from there as he could.

The sun was coming up on the horizon; another day was beginning in Carver County. He wasn't sure if he could make it back to Dillon; it was just a faint view off in the distance, probably a good 20-mile hike. He thought of Tami and that inspired him to keep moving, to get caught now would be a huge disappointment.

Everything was so quiet compared to being in town. He had always noticed how peaceful it was when he went out on lone hunting trips but now the silent meant something else to him. It was eerie, that and the fact that every sound that didn't fit in with nature made his skin crawl. The hum of a car engine made him want to frantically run in the opposite direction. Thankfully the cornfield supplied protection unlike walking on open land.

Gunshots were the next thing he had heard. At first it frightened him. Surely it wasn't Mike; it was in a totally opposite direction of where the farmhouse was. His instincts told him to walk towards the shooting, just make sure he wasn't in the direct line of fire. If he could find the person with the gun his chances would be even better. If Mike somehow found him at least now he'd have a weapon near him.

Another wave of exhaustion hit him and his legs gave out, tumbling him to the ground. He landed in some soft dirt and vegetation that was covered in dew, moving his hands through it, feeling the cool earth gather around him. His body just wanted to stop, to pass out right there but that would be giving up.

"No." He whispered to himself. He had never felt tiredness like he had at that moment. He had just made it through one of the longest nights of his life and now his body wanted to shut down on him and quit for good. His eyelids trickled shut but he forced them open, ignoring his body's pleas to sleep. He made his legs to stand him back up. Sometimes you just couldn't listen to what your body was telling you. "You can do this."

His shirt clung to him, the wet cloth cold and damp so he grabbed the front of it with his left hand, pulling it away from his skin. When he let go it went right back to sticking to him. He held onto it until he had to use his hands for balance. The dampness was making his clothes heavy to carry as well, making him stagger that much more when he took steps through the rows of dirt in front of him.

He pushed his legs through the hard dirt again, keeping a north direction that way he was headed toward Dillon and also towards the gunshots.

His body temperature also grew cold. It wasn't that bad outside, a mild 55 degrees but he was shivering like it was 20 out despite the fact that sweat soaked through his hair and dripped down his face. He hugged himself tightly, trying to keep warm.

He ran his fingertips down his rib cage next, knowing that at least two were broken under the surface of his skin. He also rubbed his face, feeling the dirt and blood that had crusted from the hours of collecting there. It was sticky to the touch, almost like he was wearing makeup.

Coach could swear that the gunshots were getting closer. He finally found a road but stayed close to the corn just in case he had to duck back in if someone came. At least he had some form of direction; it was farm road 41 that would definitely lead him back into Dillon.

He heard the sound of another engine, his heart racing. He was scared to stay on the edge of the road to see whom it was but if it was someone that could help he needed to be seen. He averted his direction to the edge of the field that way he could easily hide if it was Mike, or jump out if it was someone he could hitch a ride with.

He stumbled yet again, this time on a small dirt clod that seemed like a huge boulder to him. He fought hard and remained vertical, he knew if he landed on the ground again he probably wouldn't get back up.

* * *

Tim Riggins was glad that he and Billy were headed home. It was 6:30 AM and they had been up all night riding around out in the county, trying to get in some night hunting and just shooting the gun around. Thankfully Billy had offered to drive the whole time so he could sit in the bed and have better aim at whatever he found to shoot.

Farm road 41 was their road of choice for their route back home even though his favorite area was down 168, much more open land and a lot more dove and geese flying around but Billy had the keys, he wasn't going to argue with him.

"Hey Timmy, get rid of the rest of the shells, we are almost back into town. I tell you one thing, my ass is passing out when we get home."

"I hear you." He sipped down the rest of a beer he had been drinking, wincing from the luke warm flavor that hit his tongue.

He had around 2 more shells in his shotgun and figured Billy was right. He aimed into the field, a loud boom echoing throughout the countryside. A few birds had flown up from the disruption, so he took advantage, aiming his sites on one that was just above the tops of the corn. In the corner of his eye, right before he pulled the trigger he thought he had seen someone standing there. His finger pushed down hard, cascading one last shotgun shell at the slew of birds that were now flying off into the distance.

He averted his eyes down to where he thought he had seen a person and to his surprise it looked like Coach Taylor. He rubbed his eyes, opening them back up to see his football coach collapse hard into the moist ground beneath his feet.

Guilt quickly shot through his mind. Had he just shot him? What was he doing out here to begin with? He banged on the roof of the truck

"BILLY STOP THE TRUCK!!"

He didn't even wait for a complete stop but jumped out of the bed and sprinted to where his leader was lying. Billy did a quick U-turn, pulling up beside them in the field.

"Coach Taylor??" He knelt down beside him, rolling him over to where he was face up. It was evident that the shotgun shell had not hit him thankfully. His eyes were halfway open but he was not really alert at the moment. He was shivering uncontrollably from shock that had set in. "What in the hell happened?" He looked up at Billy who had a questionable look on his face.

"I'll call 911." He grabbed for his phone but Eric quickly took in a deep gasp, his eyes shooting open.

"No!" He gained his composure by taking in another deep breath. "Just…get me out…of here. Now!"

TBC…


	8. Chapter Eight: The Conclusion

_**Author's Note: **__Here is the final chapter of Working Class Hero, hope you enjoy it!_

_**Special Thanks: **__To everyone who has taken the time to review back on how they felt about each chapter. It's greatly appreciated; every review means something special to me._

_**Working Class Hero Chapter Eight: The Conclusion**_

"He doesn't look so good." Tim said, holding Coach's head up. He was sprawled out in the truck bed, his top half across Tim's lap. "Floor it, we need to get him to the hospital." He turned his attention back to Eric, looking down at the man that was on the verge of unconsciousness, his green eyes glazed over as his eyelids began to sink lower and lower until they were completely closed.

Tim shook Coach a little, trying to keep him awake. "Coach, open your eyes. We are almost to Dillon." He moved him again, this time he awakened, panic overtaking him when he couldn't make out who was sitting over him.

"Get away!" He tried moving but his body screamed out in pain. "Get away!" He said again, confused as to why he was feeling the way he was and why his body was not obeying his commands.

"Coach, it's me Riggins. We are taking you to the hospital." He paused, looking up at the horizon, seeing the streetlights of the small town growing closer and closer. "Can you tell me what the heck happened?"

Eric began to fade off again but quickly fought it off like a child avoiding a nap in fear of missing something. "He… wanted to kill me." Saying those few words was like running a marathon for Coach, and after that sentence he had to stop and take in several deep breaths just to try and gain his composure.

"Who did?" Tim's heart raced, glad to finally see the Dillon City limit sign. The hospital was just a few blocks away. "Stay awake coach, we are almost there."

Billy pulled right under the parking area of where the ambulance went, helping Tim get him out of the bed of the truck. Two nurses and what looked like a paramedic came through the sliding doors, a gurney being pushed with them to assist in the moving of Coach Taylor.

Eric was in and out of consciousness as they wheeled him to an ER bed. All he could make out was the faint brightness of the lights overhead as he passed under each one. It was almost too bright for him to handle so he closed his eyes to avoid anymore pain to his body. He could hear people talking around him but his ears were not making out what was being said, just low murmurs and footsteps. He just wanted to go to sleep, to let his body relax but each time he dozed the image of Mike Billings flashed in front of his eyes causing his heart to beat out of control.

One of the nurses looked at the other, shock and confusion was written across her face. "What happened to him?" She looked over at Tim who was following behind.

He shrugged, looking down at the floor and then back up at them. "We found him in a field that way."

The nurse nodded. "Okay, you can't come in any farther." She closed the curtain around the exam area leaving Tim and Billy out in the waiting room, a million questions on their mind.

"You know Tami's number?" Billy asked, leaning against the wall, wiping away some dirt that was on his face. "Someone needs to let her know about her husband."

Tim nodded, pulling out his cell phone. He clicked through a few numbers, thankful that he had stored their home number in his contacts. His palms grew sweaty; he had never had to make a call like this to someone. What was he going to say?

He hit the green call button and waited as the other end rang. He stared down at the smooth linoleum floor, taking notice to the patterns within each tile. After about four rings a voice was heard on the other line, it was Julie.

"Hello?"

Tim cleared his throat. "Julie?"

"Yeah, who is this?" Her voice was a little low, it sounded like she was upset about something but Tim didn't know that Eric had been missing and that the police were out looking for him.

"It's Riggins. Is your mom there?"

"Uhh, yeah, hold on a second." She walked to her mom's room; Tami was on the bed, a pillow covering her face. It was obvious that she had been crying when she revealed her red and soaked skin.

"Mom, its Riggins." She handed her the phone and sat beside her, wanting to eavesdrop. It wasn't everyday that Tim Riggins called your home, especially this early in the morning.

"Hey Riggins, what can I do for you?" She tried to hide the fact that she had been crying but did a horrible job at it.

"We found Coach Taylor this morning in a field out on Farm Road 41." He paused, taking in a deep breath. "Mrs. Taylor, he was beaten up pretty bad. They are working on him right now." He brushed some of his hair behind his ear, waiting on a reply from the guidance counselor.

More tears streamed down her cheeks but she was thankful that someone had found him. Her instincts were right, something terrible had happened and the police of course would not take her seriously. "Thanks Tim, we'll be down there."

She hung up the phone, pulling Julie in for a tight hug as both excitement and fear overtook her feelings. "They found Dad."

* * *

By the time Tami and Julie had arrived at the hospital about half of the town was there, all standing by in the ER waiting room. She felt awkward as they came through the doors, it felt as if every single person was talking about them and the minute their presence was known the room fell completely silent, so quiet that you could hear a pin drop. News certainly traveled fast and she was almost angry that so many people had come. It was nice to know that the town was their for support but in the back of her mind she knew that a lot of them were there just to be nosey and start rumors.

She greeted Tim, pulling him to the side to get details since he was the last person to see Eric before they worked on him. "What can you tell me Tim? How did he look, was he awake?" Questions poured from her mouth so fast that she almost couldn't stop herself but she needed answers, and quick.

This was the part Tim hated. He was not used to being so sentimental with someone. He was not good at comforting anyone and he could see that Tami was on the verge of breaking down, and here he was alone with her with no help from anyone.

"Mrs. Taylor, he was beaten up pretty bad. He was sort of out of it. I asked him what happened and he said.." He trailed off, looking her in the eye.

"Said what Tim?"

"He said that someone was trying to kill him."

Tami bit down on her bottom lip, fighting off more tears. It was Mike Billings, the man that had been tormenting him for the past couple of weeks. She knew he had something to do with this. Fear overtook her again at the thought that Mike could still be at large.

"Tim, did they catch the guy that did this?"

He shook his head. "I'm not sure. Billy and I were on our way back into Dillon when I saw him on the edge of the road. That's all I know, Mrs. Taylor."

She nodded, closing her eyes. "Thanks Tim, I appreciate all of this." Her voice cracked and this time she let her tears fall. She gave him a small hug. "He could've still been out there if it wasn't for you."

Tim hugged back, not sure of what else to do.

* * *

It was about thirty minutes later when a doctor came from behind the curtain, making his way to the crowded area where most of the town was waiting.

"I need to speak with Tami Taylor, please."

Tami stood up, grabbing Julie's hand. They approached the doctor, the whole time Tami's heart raced. It was always so hard to read the demeanor of a health care professional. She swore they must've taken a class on facial expressions so they wouldn't tip off people about someone's condition. He looked solemn, but maybe that's just the type of guy he was. She shrugged it off, 'don't jump to conclusions,' she told herself as they sat down in a coffee room.

"I'm Dr. Rhodes. You must be Mrs. Taylor and this is your daughter Julie, correct?"

Tami nodded, not saying anything. She didn't want to be rude but she had to know how Eric was. "How's my husband?"

"He's in stable condition. He was severely dehydrated. He lost a lot of blood also." He paused. "He had some trauma to his abdomen, had a couple of broken ribs and his left cheek was broken from repetitive impact from some kind of object, possibly a boot or something, it's too hard to tell."

Tami's stomach dropped. It was bittersweet. Stable condition was excellent news but the fact that her husband had gone through so much torture made her want to go to him right now, to bring him into her arms so she could comfort him and let him know she was there for him. Right now he was around people he didn't know and all she wanted to do was be right by his side.

"We think he was tied up with rope also. His wrists had severe rope burns and the lacerations from the fibers were pretty deep. That's where a lot of his blood loss came from despite the fact that it was his wrists." He took a sip of coffee, offering both of them a cup but they both declined. "He was found in the nick of time. His body was on the verge of going into shock."

"Where is he right now?" Tami's voice was almost a whisper.

"They are getting a room ready for him and then you can go see him. It'll be just a few more minutes. He's going to need a lot of rest so keep that in mind."

"Thanks, Dr. Rhodes."

She walked back into the waiting room, staring at all of the faces that were still there. Swallowing hard, she pulled Julie beside her. Right now that was her support, having her daughter there with her even though she could tell Julie was still a little scared and nervous about the whole thing.

"I want to thank you all for coming but you don't have to wait around. He's going to be okay; he's just going to need a lot of rest. I'll let him know the support you are showing us." She turned to the Riggins boys, smiling. "And thanks to you two, I can't say it enough." She squeezed Julie's hand, glad she wasn't alone. "We'll let everyone know if anything changes, thanks again." With that last comment they headed to hospital room 208 where Eric was, her pace quickening.

They slowly opened the door. A nurse was inside taking his vitals and making sure the room was clean and ready to go. Eric looked like he was asleep so they tried to be as quiet as they could. The nurse gave a small smile and made her exit, leaving the Taylor family alone for the first time that morning.

He did look bad. She took note to his face all bruised up and tattered from the crap he had gone through. With the normal eye you couldn't tell that his cheek was broken but it didn't matter, Eric had been through hell and back. She ran her fingertips over his arm, seeing that his wrists were wrapped up in gauze to doctor the lacerations. His breathing was shallow and labored but at least he was sleeping.

"Mom, how did this happen?" Julie broke the silence over the machines hooked up to her father.

Tami averted her eyes from studying Eric's wounds to her daughter who was sitting on the other side of the bed. "I think the man that has been messing with Dad did this. I'm not sure how it happened though. That's something we'll have to hear from his mouth when he wakes up."

Julie reached her father's hand, folding her fingers around his. She thought back to all of the fights and quarrels she got into with him and immediately regretted each one. She never realized how easy it was to lose someone close to you and this situation really brought it to her attention. Her father could've easily died and now it was like they would get a second chance.

About an hour later the same nurse that was present before came in again, a tray of food being wheeled in. "Eric, I need you to wake up, we need you to try and eat something."

He didn't respond so she tried again, the second time worked and his eyelids slowly fluttered open. He was a bit confused at first, pulling away but was reassured when he looked to the right and saw Tami sitting beside him, a smile on her lips.

"Tami?" His voice was raspy from being dry.

She laughed, running her fingers through his hair. "Julie is here too."

"Well..I'll be.." He muttered. "This is…crazy." He nodded at the nurse.

"You try and eat this Eric. I'll be back in a little bit to check on you." She then left the room, shutting the door behind her.

He licked his lips, motioning towards a cup of water. Julie handed it to him and he drank it down quickly. Water had never tasted so good to him. His dehydration had gotten better from the IV's they had hooked up to him but the feeling of something cold and wet actually hitting his tongue was one of the most refreshing feelings he had ever felt.

"More." He said, drinking down about 3 cups before he was satisfied. He looked up at Tami, a small grin forming on his face. "Who'd have thought this would happen? Almost out of a movie." He wasn't talking real loud from not having a lot of energy but good enough that both Julie and Tami could hear him. It was evident that he was heavily medicated so a lot of his thoughts were a little random.

"The police are going to come ask you some questions. Are you going to be up for it?" Tami leaned in, never wanting to let go of his hand again.

He nodded. "Have they caught him?" His vision felt foggy as he stared at a random spot on the wall across from him. His stomach began to rumble and he felt the sudden urge to vomit. Thankfully that quick wave of nausea passed but it still felt uncomfortable. He knew he should've taken sips and not gulp the water down like he did.

Tami almost didn't want to answer that in fear of getting Eric riled up. The last thing he needed right now was to get panicked and make himself sick. "I'm not sure, but that's one reason they want to come speak with you."

It was almost as if the Dillon Police Department was spying on them because two of the detectives entered, familiar ones that they had been dealing with in the recent past.

"Coach Taylor, can you answer a few questions for us?"

He took in a sigh, not answering right off. "I guess.."

One of the detectives broke right into the questions. "Can you tell us who did this?" They were pretty positive he could but it had to officially go down on record that he said his name and positively identified him. Taking in Eric's appearance they almost called it off and come back later.

Eric cringed at the thought of the man. "It was..Mike Billings."

"You are sure?"

He gritted his teeth. "Positive." His eyes sunk in again, the nausea was really tearing at him and he was unable to think a rational thought at the moment from the painkillers they had him on. Tami noticed that he was growing pretty tired and weak but was scared to speak up, if Eric didn't want them there surely he would say something.

"One more thing." The other detective spoke, staring down at his notepad he always had with him. "We need you to tell us what happened. Everything you can remember."

"I only wish I could forget," Eric mumbled, running his hand over his forehead. "I've got a terrible headache. I feel like I'm going to puke."

Tami grabbed a bedpan, holding it near the bed but Eric quickly put his hand up, letting her know he'd be okay for the time being.

"Tell us this one last thing and we'll be gone and you can get back to resting."

Eric closed his eyes, sinking low into his pillow. It was taking all he had to even stay awake, much less recall the last 24 hours. He let out a low grumble, adjusting his weight under the covers, forgetting that the two men were standing over him until he felt Tami's hand wake him up once more.

"Eric, can you tell them or do you want to get some sleep?"

He kept his lids shut and nodded without speaking.

"You want them to go?" She looked up at the men and back down at him.

"Yes, please go." The sentence came out more mumbled than anything, but the detectives got the hint.

"Thanks Coach, we'll come back later when you're more awake." Like they had promised, they left after the last question.

Tami couldn't help but cry. How could someone be so evil? And to Eric? What had he done to him to do this? He was one of the most caring men she knew, and she wasn't just biased. He tried to help as many as he could, even if he as a little rough around the edges. She wasn't sure if she wanted to hear all the details, and maybe Eric didn't remember much of it anyway. She wiped her wet face with a Kleenex.

"I'm so sorry this happened to you Eric."

* * *

Later that afternoon the detectives had showed back up in his room. He was awake and sitting up, watching a Cowboys game on the TV. He was still heavily medicated but was able to manage it a little better than earlier that morning. Tami was there as well but her mind wasn't on the game, just on other things and how her outlook on life had pretty much changed after all of this. Julie had stepped out to get something to eat.

Eric was getting pretty annoyed at the cops but he muted the TV anyway. Maybe they were really here to help, sad that it took this much to grab their attention. "I hope you guys have some good news for me, I'm kind of tired of seeing you."

"We do have some good news. We found Mike Billings trying to flee to the Mexican border. Border patrol almost let him squeak by."

Eric nodded, a feeling of relief shot through his body. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back on the pillow. Maybe this was all over and he could start his attempt at forgetting it but that would definitely take some time.

"There was also a note we found at his house. You might want to read it."

They handed him a small yellow post it.

_Taylor wanted to know why I was doing this. I wanted to be him. I wanted his life. I wanted his job. I wanted him. _

A chill went down Eric's spine as he handed the note back to them. It was going to take a long time for him to get over this or to even trust anyone ever again.

He knew that being a celebrity was part of this job when he signed on as head football coach, he just never knew that events would be this drastic or carried this far….

**The End**


End file.
